Slayer
by RainTiger
Summary: After the defeat of the Book of the Dead, life continues for all the folks in Bryony. .:now posting season two:.
1. In Which There Is Another Hellmouth

Title-- Danae: Vampire Slayer  
  
By-- RainTiger  
  
Rating: PG-13 for violence  
  
Summary: Potential Slayer Danae Gray is raised by her Watcher after the death of her parents (two rogue demon hunters). Danae and James are stationed at Lake Tahoe (in Nevada), under which there is a long-dormant Hellmouth, and neither of them are too pleased about it. One night, after a demon mysteriously arises, Danae is suddenly Called -- becoming a full Slayer. It becomes a race against time to both learn and control her powers, and find out why she was Called when no Slayer had died.  
  
A/N: Of course, I credit this all to Joss, even my original stuff. Danae never would have never been made without his influence. NONE OF THE CONVENTIONAL CHARACTERS ARE FEATURED THUS FAR. Sorry if they're all that interests you. You can also find Danae (and any episodes so far that aren't written by RainTiger) at danae-vs.50megs.com.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Things were dark under the trees at night, but then, they were often dark in the day as well. Everything around pressed in on a small clearing with a small building, and, as she came into view, a small girl. She stumbled into the relatively clear space, foot catching on a rock. The girl tumbled downward, face splattering in the mud. Somehow, the rain was getting through, and should have soothed her cuts, but it didn't.  
  
Even though she weighed no more than seventy pounds, her left wrist collapsed under her when she forced herself to her hands and knees. Testing it, she thought it was sprained or broken. Instead of crying out, as most would do, she took a deep, shuddering breath. "Keep it together, Danae," she murmured to herself. Using her teeth, Danae ripped a strip from her tank top, binding her arm as best she could, and not doing too bad a job. It wouldn't last long, but it held her wrist in place. Hopefully, it wouldn't have the same fate as her ill-healed broken nose.  
  
Danae climbed back to her feet, using a combination of a wide stance and too-big boots to hold her up. She limped a few steps before realizing where she was.  
  
Her eyes widened at the sight of the building, and she hunched a little to hold off the feeling the structure gave off -- a sickly humming deep in her marrow. "This is it," she promised herself. "No more."  
  
Sinking back to the ground, Danae put her face in her good hand. She knew she should get up -- just a few more steps, and these hard months would pay off, and better yet, end. Just a few more st--  
  
The door exploded outward, a metal shard piercing her in the shoulder. Had it been just a few inches to the left, she would be dead.  
  
Instinctively rolling back, Danae forced herself behind a tree. Breathing heavily, Danae's cheeks became streaked with tears, clearing a path down the mud caked there. Her left hand would be no good in taking out her latest injury, but the right could hardly reach. Steeling herself, she ripped out the shard, throwing it aside roughly. Through the piercing agony, she noticed her left wrist was bent oddly again.  
  
"Run, Moira!"  
  
At the sound of her mother's name, Danae forgot about the white-hot pain. Looking around the tree, she saw her mum shooting out of the now-open doorway, looking far worse than Danae. One eye was now an empty socket, and the other was circled in a dark bruise. One arm hung useless at her side, and blood coated her torso.  
  
"M-mum?" Danae called weakly, trying to find her voice.  
  
"Hurry, Joseph," Moira urged. She hadn't seen or heard Danae.  
  
And Danae didn't see her Da again -- there was another explosion, this time from within, and a loud roaring.  
  
Something black as the night around them hurtled out, seizing Moira roughly. It took hold of each her arms and --  
  
Danae screamed, loud enough to wake the dead and kill the living -- but the beast did not stop, did not let go of her. It flexed its muscles, and the clearing went completely silent. Danae ran from behind her tree as it bounded away.  
  
Her mother was thrown under a bush, only her upper torso and face visible -- and perhaps that was for the best. Danae scrambled awkwardly over, wiping mud and rain from her eyes. She knelt down, looking for some sign of life -- but there was none.  
  
Around Moira's neck was a cross on a silver chain, somehow clean and clear of all the muck around them. She had had that for as long as Danae could remember, and she had even once told her that someday, Danae could have it.  
  
Slipping her arms tenderly around her mother's neck, Danae felt for the clasp and undid the chain, crying silently as she did so. Releasing the cross, Danae touched her mother's forehead. "I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner," Danae whispered.  
  
She broke down, unable to do anything else.  
  
She had failed.  
  
The pace of the rain seemed to increase as a heavy hand was set on her left shoulder. "It is time, Miss Gray."  
  
~~~~~  
  
"You're not paying attention," Joseph chided gently. "You can do much better, Danae. Watch Moira again."  
  
Moira untied her blonde hair, running her fingers through it to make it neater, then retied it in a long ponytail. Taking a deep, easing breath, she bent slowly backwards, hands touching the ground. Kicking up, Moira held a perfect handstand for several seconds, then lowered her legs back down to complete the back flip smoothly.  
  
"You can do it," Moira said, smiling.  
  
Danae bounced, flipping backwards quickly without using her hands. She gave an elaborate bow. "I can do it -- in fact, I can do it better. Why so slow?"  
  
"It isn't that you can do it, it's the control," Joseph explained. "Once more, Danae, and--"  
  
Moira and Joseph both stopped, facing the wall leading outside. An audible rumbling filled Danae's ears.  
  
"He's found us," Moira said softly after two long moments.  
  
"Take Danae and run," Joseph said. "Now."  
  
Joseph's calm disappeared, and he ran for the door. Moira pushed Danae in the opposite direction. "Run, Danae!" Moira cried.  
  
Danae sat up suddenly, sheets tangled around her legs. Breathing heavily, as though she had been running all night, she looked around quickly. Why was she dreaming about that? That had been three years ago, when her parents were taken. It was also one of the very few memories of that general time period she had.  
  
Something flickering at her bedside caught her eye. Turning a bit, she saw a small white candle. Lifting it, she blew it out gently. A certain energy seemed to leave the room.  
  
"James!" Danae yelled, setting the candle back down.  
  
"Yes?" the man replied, voice far off.  
  
"We so have to talk." Jumping out of bed, Danae closed her door the rest of the way, shedding her pajamas.  
  
"I'm in the kitchen making scrambled eggs."  
  
"All right."  
  
Throwing on exercise clothes, Danae brushed her hair. Her shower would have to wait until she got back from training that morning, as it always did. Bouncing down the stairs, she ran through the kitchen, dodging the island, and stopping at James' side.  
  
James Edwards was tall, taller than Danae at least, and built lean. He had well-toned muscles from dancing and training, and Danae supposed that to an outside person, he would be very handsome. His black hair and ice-blue eyes truly set off his kindly face, and if he weren't so closed off, he'd probably have a date every night. He sort of resented being Danae's Watcher -- at the age of twenty six, he shouldn't have been loaded with raising a teenage girl. Unfortunately for him, his perfect memory made him a Watcher young.  
  
She tapped her foot impatiently. "James. My wonderful, evil Watcher. You were doing it again."  
  
"Doing what?" he asked innocently, transferring the newly made scrambled eggs onto two plates. He handed Danae one, setting his plate at the table in the dining room. She followed him.  
  
"You put that bloody candle in my room again, James. You know the one. That cute little white number that makes me remember things." She sat down at the table, stabbing some egg with her fork. "If I see that thing again, I'm throwing it out my window."  
  
"You need to see those things, Danae," James said. "You lack memory from about five months of your life."  
  
"I remember enough," Danae protested.  
  
"Very well. What happened when I found you?"  
  
"Umm."  
  
"After I found you?"  
  
"Er."  
  
"And how long did it take me to get you back to full health? How did your nose get broken? How many places did you look for your parents? When--"  
  
"Enough." Danae held up a hand to stop him. "So my memory has holes. Big deal. Trauma made me forget for a reason."  
  
James leaned forward, looking as though he wanted to pursue the matter further, but instead just shook his head. "Ready to train?"  
  
"Aren't I always?"  
  
James took off his black night robe, revealing a same-colored exercise outfit. "Let's go."  
  
They left the house, not bothering to lock the door. It was hardly light enough to see out, but they made their way easily to their training center/dance studio. James locked the building nightly, but that was because he didn't want anyone wandering in and getting into their weapons and odd gymnastic equipment.  
  
Danae went over to the CD player by the large mirrored wall, playing the mix CD that was already in there. "Must we listen to Eye of the Tiger every time we train?" James sighed.  
  
"If you'd rather not listen to this." Danae skipped a song, going to something fairly fast paced. "Can we get a cat?"  
  
"No," James said instantly. "You know I'm allergic."  
  
"How about a dog?" Danae wrapped her hands, facing a punching back. "You're not allergic to those."  
  
"No. Perhaps, later, we'll consider a ranch."  
  
Danae began beating the bag with a sturdy rhythm. "Where? Montana? North Dakota? Somewhere in Europe? You know, we didn't spend long in Africa, maybe we could do that. I bet the Council will let us pick our next destination."  
  
"Danae." James frowned, taking out a curved knife and wiping in on his shirt to clear off the dust. "It would have to be. closer."  
  
"California."  
  
"Haven't you noticed something, Danae? I have my own dance studio. We have an actual house. We live on a God-forsaken Hellmouth!" James set the dagger back on the wall. "They stationed us here! We're bloody caught in Nevada!"  
  
Danae stopped, staring disbelievingly. "Are you taking the piss?"  
  
"No, no jokes." James slammed his fist against the wall, unable to calm himself. "We're stuck."  
  
"Bugger that!" Danae laughed, but it was shaky, not humorous. "Why not Paris? Why not Rio? Why not anywhere but here?"  
  
James shook his head. "There's no time for explanation now, especially not while I'm angry. Keep training. You still have time before class today."  
  
"Class? Hadn't we planned on having me home schooled?" Danae kicked the bag hard. "I've never gone to a day of public or private school in my life!"  
  
"You're already registered," James said. He considered sword practice for that morning, but decided Danae shouldn't have anything sharp at the moment. He took out two quarter staffs, not bothering to put padding on -- Danae would beat him with or without, but she'd be pretty careful not to hurt him.  
  
Danae took one of the staffs, getting into ready stance. "Why can't you teach me? Don't you have time for me any more?" She looked hurt, but James knew it was just an act.  
  
"I do, but there are other responsibilities as a Watcher. paperwork, for one thing." He rolled his eyes. "A lot of it. And I've been thinking about converting the upstairs of the studio into a flat."  
  
"Why?" Danae asked curiously, but she still looked sort of hurt. Maybe it wasn't an act. "We have a house already."  
  
"En garde," James said, moving forward to begin attacking the potential Slayer. "In case we ever have company, or if we have to research all night. I could also put my scrolls and texts up there.  
  
"And that's why you're sending me to hell."  
  
"That's the gist of it. You should realize that you're very time consuming." James tried to strike at her head, but she blocked with no real thought. Danae struck him squarely in the side, then swept his feet out from under him. Sitting on his chest, she held her staff as though ready to kill. His chest heaved with heavy breathing under her.  
  
"Me? Time consuming?" Danae shrugged, setting her staff down. She sat back thoughtfully. "I suppose I am. But it is your job. What now, sensei?"  
  
"You could get off my chest, for one thing," James said, sounding strained.  
  
"Oh, sorry!" Danae stood up, getting off him. She held out her hand, offering to help him up. He took it, and she pulled him standing. "I'll go this year. But can you get back to home schooling me next year?"  
  
"We'll see," James said, smiling. Danae smiled back.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Eric Black hummed to himself, leaning back in his chair happily. Things were good after retirement, and he could just relax and enjoy himself. His life got no better.  
  
He didn't notice the slight earthquake, the small shudder that rippled through the earth. But why should he have felt it? His frail body could feel nothing other than the soft stirring of the lake. Eric didn't feel when the water began to churn. In his half-sleep state, he pulled his hat lower over his eyes.  
  
The water erupted, tossing his small boat into the air. With a yell, Eric toppled out, hitting the surface hard.  
  
A slimy head emerged from the lake, large eyes blinking uncertainly in all the light. Roaring, the beast held out a hand, and the ship burst into flame. Dredging himself upward, Eric watched the monster raise himself up and walk slowly across the settling surface of the lake.  
  
"Holy mother," Eric murmured.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Danae stared disbelievingly. "It's. horrible. I've never seen anything so terrifying."  
  
"High school isn't that bad," James assured her. Students were entering the building slowly, talking and laughing as though they had known each other for their whole lives -- which they probably had. He turned up his wrist, looking at his watch. "Danae, I have to get going. Come to the dance studio after class."  
  
"Sir, yes sir," Danae said sarcastically, saluting him crookedly.  
  
She went confidently inside, although her brightness was short-lived. Looking around the large entrance area, Danae glanced at each hall (of which there were six) confusedly. A large skylight above her provided much light, and a second floor loomed overhead. Where was she was supposed to get her schedule?  
  
A girl appeared at her shoulder. "You look lost."  
  
Danae nodded. The mousy girl pointed to the hall to the far right of the first floor. "Offices are that way. You can get a map of the school and your schedule down there."  
  
Danae thought for a moment, then turned to face the girl again. "Thank--" The girl had disappeared. "You?"  
  
Shrugging, Danae followed the instructions, and in little time found herself in her homeroom class. The room was bare, with no whimsical posters or inspirational art on the walls. The teacher, monotonous and dull, sent her immediately to her seat, gave a brief introduction and vague rule list, then launched in on the history of the town.  
  
History? Danae had never heard so much bullshit.  
  
Everything she said was obviously misinformation provided by the government or Watchers' Council. Danae honestly tried to pay attention, but once the teacher started in on all the old gangs that used to be in the area, she had no choice but to doodle aimlessly.  
  
She was in the middle of making a grid without a ruler (and doing a spanking good job, if she said so herself), when Danae suddenly drew a squiggled line -- an earthquake.  
  
A wave of nausea hit her, and she held onto the sides of her desk to keep from falling over. Breathing heavily, Danae's eyes closed. No one else seemed to have noticed.  
  
"Are you all right, Miss Gray?" the teacher asked.  
  
"I. need to go to the toilets," Danae said thickly, stumbling out of the classroom. Running for the bathroom, she went in and took out her cell phone. Speed dialing one, a very irritated James answered shortly.  
  
"Yes, Danae?"  
  
"There was an earthquake."  
  
"So? They're perfectly normal." She could hear him shuffling through papers. "I'm really busy right now--"  
  
"It wasn't perfectly normal," Danae insisted. "It was. evil."  
  
He sighed, exasperated. "If you'd like, we can discuss this at the studio. after school."  
  
Danae frowned, hanging up. The urge to vomit had passed. Leaning on the to look closely at herself, her brow furrowed. Was she completely crazy? Had she imagined it?  
  
No, she decided. It had happened.  
  
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Danae headed back to class.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A Nevada wind blew softly through the area, Danae reclined a bit and put the rest of a cookie in her mouth, smiling at the note that had come with it -- "Good girl for staying this long. Have a cookie as reward." Folding it twice, she held it up, and the wind carried it away. Knowing James, he'd enchanted it to return to him -- which was why she'd written "Thank you. Much appreciated. I hate you for sending me here" at the bottom. He had quite the knack for magic, but unfortunately, Danae had absolutely no such talent.  
  
"How'd you get up there?" a voice called from several meters below her.  
  
Danae glanced down to the base of the tree (she had to be at least seven meters from the ground), grinning broadly at what she saw.  
  
A group of three people stood below, one the dirty-blond haired mousy girl from earlier. She was obviously the one who had spoken, but her two companions looked more interested. The second of the group was another girl, blonde and slightly chubby. She was very perky and attractive. The third, however, was who caught Danae's eye.  
  
He was probably about Danae's height, with light brown hair. He's hot, Danae decided instantly. Very hot.  
  
"I climbed." Danae braced herself, dropping a few feet down the tree. She snagged a branch, holding on and dangling for a moment before falling the rest of the way. It would have been a lie to say that it hadn't hurt to land after such a distance, but she didn't mind.  
  
"You're new," the shortest girl said bluntly. As an after thought, she added, "I'm Sara, by the way."  
  
"Danae." She hefted her bookbag onto her shoulder easily from where it had rested under the tree.  
  
"I'm Gabi, and our quiet counterpart is Anthony," Gabi said, ever-cheerful.  
  
"Pleasure," Danae replied, shaking hands with Anthony. Their fingers touched, and an image of them flashed in her head quickly. Blushing, Danae shook her head to clear it.  
  
Gabi looked at her curiously. "Are you British?"  
  
"I was born in France, but I'm an American. Why?"  
  
"You have an odd accent. Definitely foreign." Gabi glanced around. "Want to sit?"  
  
The four crossed to a picnic table under the shadow of the building, and Danae settled in easily. She had a problem with sitting normally, so she stretched over an entire bench, tapping her boots on the seat to an invisible rhythm. "I travel. a lot," Danae said in manner of explanation.  
  
"Who are your parents?" Sara asked.  
  
Danae froze, ice running through her veins. She didn't want to speak of them, especially with strangers. The only person she could talk to about them was James. "I don't live with my parents. I live with my Wa-- er. Godfather. James."  
  
"James Edwards?" Anthony asked suddenly.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Runs Dance Watch?" Danae decided she liked the sound of his voice. She smiled shyly.  
  
"You know him?"  
  
"Is he a fairy?" Gabi asked mischievously.  
  
"No," Danae said hurriedly, automatically defending her Watcher. Realizing it was a joke, she put a thoughtful look on her face. "Then again."  
  
Everyone laughed, even Anthony. "You know, not everyone who dances is gay," he said firmly.  
  
"He dances at your studio," Sara said in a stage whisper.  
  
"Really?" Danae asked. "Maybe I'll see you there sometime."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
~~~~~  
  
A heavy rhythm underscored James' intermediate ballet class, an assortment of men and women dancing together. Danae sat, humming quietly, in the corner, drumming the beat on her knees. James was directing them on the opposite side of the room, wearing jeans instead of dance gear -- it had been ballroom dancing earlier, and he hadn't felt up to ballet that day.  
  
Danae spotted Anthony the moment he arrived. Smiling, she waved. Anthony skirted the dancers and joined her as Danae stood to meet him.  
  
"Hi Anthony," she greeted.  
  
Anthony nodded at her. "Hello, Danae," he replied. He looked around. "Do you dance?"  
  
"Not ballet, more ballroom and tango. You can't live with a dance fanatic like James and not pick up a few things," Danae said. James was calling for a cool down, and Danae gestured to a door. "If you need to talk to James, we can go in back and wait. He won't be long."  
  
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you."  
  
"We can go in back for that, too," Danae said with a grin. She led him to the room where she and James often trained, but the mirrors were covered in curtains so the light through the windows wouldn't blind them.  
  
"What's all this for?" Anthony asked, following Danae's example of removing their shoes before walking on the blue mats covering the floor.  
  
"So, what's up?" Danae asked, ignoring his question about the gymnastic equipment. She walked over to the weapons cabinets. Taking the key from her pocket, she locked them, turning back just in time to catch a heavy training ball Anthony had thrown.  
  
"That's what I thought," Anthony said. "You have crosses tattooed on your palms. Why?"  
  
Danae turned her palms up, looking at the markings. "I don't remember," she said hollowly. They had appeared sometime three years ago. of which time she had little memory.  
  
Anthony crossed over to her, taking her hands. Danae was holding her breath from being so close to him, and he ran his fingers over her palms. "Does it hurt?" he whispered.  
  
"All the time," Danae said softly.  
  
She looked at him, and he looked at her. The room seemed absolutely silent except for the beating of her own heart. Anthony bent forward, Danae's eyes closing --  
  
"Sorry I'm late," James said pleasantly, entering the room. Danae and Anthony practically flew apart, and Danae was sure her face was as bright red as it felt hot. James took in the scene for a moment, eyebrow raised, then clapped his hands. "Right, you two, Danae has a lot to do, and I'm sure you were just going."  
  
"Right," Anthony said, nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow, Danae."  
  
Anthony all but ran from the room, and probably the entire studio. Danae turned apologetically to James. "Sorry, James, we were just--"  
  
"No need for any of that," he said. He leaned against the wall, pointing at her. "But remember rule six."  
  
"'A Slayer must not compromise her position nor abilities in close friendships or relationships. This only places citizens in more danger and ensues in more work and trouble for the Slayer,'" Danae quoted mechanically.  
  
James nodded. "Precisely. Now, what of that earthquake you spoke of so direly earlier?"  
  
Danae crossed to the Japanese screen that stood in the corner that they'd picked up on their last trip to the country. She took her training clothes off the stool and began to change as she filled him in.  
  
"I maintain my original verdict," James said after she finished. "Your reaction was probably from your sensitivity and enhanced awareness of the area around you." He glanced at her when she came out from behind the screen. "I don't know if I'm well enough for training right now. I think I'm coming down with a bit of the flu."  
  
Danae pursed her lips, standing with her fists on her hips. "Fine. Don't believe me. It's not like I'm the Potential Slayer and you're the wally of a Watcher who has no special powers or anything."  
  
"Now, Danae, that's not fair--"  
  
"No. It's not." She stormed to the door, putting her shoes back on. "I'm going back to the house to see if there's anything to this earthquake. You can stay here and dance like a-- like a fairy all you want. Bet you it's an apocalypse." She left the room swiftly.  
  
James stood still for a moment. That had hurt. Unfortunately, he couldn't follow her until everyone had left the studio, so he simply sighed and went back to where the dancers were congregated.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Nikki stepped slowly onto the subway car, the door hissing shut behind her. She looked quickly around -- she had tracked the vampire she had been fighting here. He wasn't there, however, and she had not given him enough time to get out before she arrived.  
  
Ready for a trap, Nikki stepped hesitantly forward. The subway rocked, beginning to move, and --  
  
SLAM!  
  
Her head struck the wall, arm pinned up behind her back. Nikki kicked backwards, connecting with Spike's knee, and she threw her head back to hit him in the face. He let go.  
  
Spinning, Nikki struck him square in the stomach twice, then kicking high at his head. Spike pulled back fast enough for her to miss, and he took her ankle, throwing her off-balance. Nikki rolled, kicking at his feet. Spike leapt up, avoiding her easily. He laughed -- it was no more than a game to him.  
  
Nikki jumped up again, backing away. He had the upper hand, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. Running forward, Nikki threw Spike to the ground, straddling him, hands around his throat. She pressed harder, trying to get a good enough grip to--  
  
The lights flickered darkly, a loud shrieking filling their ears. Spike sat up quickly, throwing her off-balance. Flipping them over so he was on top, he cut off her air passage deftly. He smiled down at her, almost as though he were fond (mad, really) of her, then snaked one hand around to the back of her head. He twisted his hands quickly.  
  
SNAP!  
  
Danae's back arched, hands clawing at the air. A flowing heat entered her nose and mouth, filling her vision with red, and her muscles contracted, then released. She fell back onto the bed. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, clutching at her sheets.  
  
Her eyes flew open, rumbling thunder entering her ears. What could have been a roaring tide deafened her, everything in the room shockingly bright.  
  
"James!" Danae cried.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"James!" Danae cried.  
  
Pressing her hands over her ears, Danae squeezed her eyes shut, drawing her legs up to her chest. The sound of her own heart was hurting her, the moon outside stinging her eyes. It wasn't long before another heartbeat came in the area, feet pounding against the ground.  
  
"Danae! What is it?" James said, voice a roar.  
  
"It hurts," Danae whimpered, breathing heavily. "It hurts so bad."  
  
The bed shifted, and James climbed on with her. He wrapped his arms around her carefully, prying one of her hands off her ear. "What hurts, Danae?"  
  
"It's so loud, and so bright, and I dreamt I died, but I wasn't me, I was another Slayer." Danae said quickly, words jumbling together. James held her silently, thinking hard. It sounded like the symptoms of. but it couldn't be. She grabbed his wrist tightly, over-compensating with her grip. James winced.  
  
"I need to go to the studio," he whispered softly, thinking even that would be too loud. "I can't leave you here alone. Can you walk?"  
  
She nodded, and James stood back up. He took one of her blankets, covering her gently and guiding her to her feet. "I'm not an invalid," she said, sounding almost like her normal self.  
  
He laughed. "No, I suppose you're not." James let go of her, running to get his jacket and keys. Slipping on shoes quickly, he turned just in time to see Danae trip on the stairs, tumbling down. At her side immediately, James scooped her up into his arms. She began to protest, but he just said, "No time for that now."  
  
Awkwardly opening their door, he took Danae out to the car and gently deposited her on the passenger side seat. He crossed quickly to the driver's side, getting in and starting the car. Danae was pressed against the window, staring outside as though she had never seen it before. "Is it any better?" he asked, pulling the car out of the driveway. It bounced a bit over the curb, but Danae looked more fascinated than injured.  
  
She nodded. "It's not so. painful. It's better when we move." Danae touched the window. "What's that orange glow?"  
  
James glanced at where she pointed. "I. don't know. It looks like fire."  
  
A yellow-gold tinge was in the sky above the town to the south west, towards the dance studio. It lit the entire area, but the cause of the fire -- nor the fire itself -- was visible from where they were. It was uncomfortably close, however. "I reckon we'll find out, won't we?" James said, speeding up the car.  
  
"What's happening to me?" Danae asked, pressing gently against the window. James leaned over and caught her arm before she pushed the glass out of the van. She moved the offending hand to her lap. "Sorry."  
  
"I'm not honestly sure what's going on," James said, "but it sounds like you had a flawed Calling."  
  
"Calling for what?"  
  
"Called to be a Slayer."  
  
~~~~~  
  
In the pre-dawn stillness, anyone in Bryony could have heard the enormous splashing coming from Lake Tahoe. Had anyone been awake, that is. The slumbering masses were, however, awoken when the eight-foot, horny salamander ignited the dry cleaners at the south west end of Main Street.  
  
The chemicals at the dry cleaners, when heated, exploded forcibly, raining burning debris on the small town. Several more buildings caught, casting an orange glow on the sky. The people, fearful for the safety of their lives and property, ran screaming from their houses into the streets.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Danae stared incredulously at James. "What?" she asked, voice still fairly quiet. "Called for. being a Slayer. Who died?"  
  
"I believe the current Slayer is named Faith," James said in a rush. His hair was in a state of disarray from how he kept running his hands through it, and his knuckles were white from clenching on the wheel so hard. "She's supposed to be in protective custody, though. I-I'm not sure what to do if you are a Slayer--"  
  
Danae's brow furrowed, and she looked forward -- only to see a wall of fire raise before them. "Watch out!" she cried.  
  
James' eyes widened, and he turned right hard, running onto the curb. Danae's seat belt went taught, bruising her collar bone to keep her from hitting the windshield. James slammed hard on the brakes, stopping them just short of hitting the dance studio.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked urgently. Danae groaned, unbuckling and touching her bruise tenderly.  
  
"Fine," she said. Danae re-wrapped the blanket around her arms. "What caused that?"  
  
"I don't-- know." James said, his voice trailing off. He looked up, beyond the wall of flames, and his mouth fell open. "Actually, it was probably that." He pointed.  
  
Danae followed his gaze, and squinted against the brightness of the fire briefly -- then saw it. Probably eight feet tall, with large eyes and ridges of horns running down its head and back, a demon was looking down at them quizzically. "Whurf?" it asked stupidly, blinking wetly.  
  
"Bloody hell," Danae said. "Am I supposed to fight that thing?"  
  
It raised a clawed hand, pointing at the vehicle. "Get out!" James ordered, throwing his door open and launching himself out. Danae shoved herself out, rolling to the side of the dance studio. She hit her bruised collar bone on a rock, crying out as the car exploded, shrapnel raining down on them.  
  
The demon growled, stepping towards her, the large bulk moving sluggishly. Danae grimaced, standing slowly. Her ears still rang from the explosion --  
  
The door exploded outward, a metal shard piercing her in the shoulder. Had it been just a few inches to the left, she would be dead.  
  
Instinctively rolling back, Danae forced herself behind a tree. Breathing heavily, Danae's cheeks became streaked with tears, clearing a path down the mud caked there. Her left hand would be no good in taking out her latest injury, but the right could hardly reach. Steeling herself, she ripped out the shard, throwing it aside roughly. Through the piercing agony, she noticed her left wrist was bent oddly again.  
  
"Run, Danae!" James yelled, dodging the burning car as he came towards her quickly. She tried to move, but couldn't make herself even think.  
  
"Hurry, Joseph," Moira urged. She hadn't seen or heard Danae.  
  
And Danae didn't see her Da again -- there was another explosion, this time from within, and a loud roaring.  
  
Something black as the night around them hurtled out, seizing Moira roughly. It took hold of each her arms and --  
  
Danae screamed, James catching up to her and throwing her inside the studio. He followed quickly, slamming the door shut on the demon. Danae put her hands over her ears. "Stop," she cried. "Stop!"  
  
James looked out a window, watching the demon look in and lose interest. He sighed heavily when it moved on, shuffling its great feet. He slid down to the ground, bowing his head for a moment.  
  
Danae scrambled awkwardly over, wiping mud and rain from her eyes. She knelt down, looking for some sign of life -- but there was none.  
  
Around Moira's neck was a cross on a silver chain, somehow clean and clear of all the muck around them. She had had that for as long as Danae could remember, and she had even once told her that someday, Danae could have it.  
  
Slipping her arms tenderly around her mother's neck, Danae felt for the clasp and undid the chain, crying silently as she did so. Releasing the cross, Danae touched her mother's forehead. "I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner," Danae whispered.  
  
She broke down, unable to do anything else.  
  
She had failed.  
  
A weight seemed to lift off Danae's chest -- she took a gasping breath of air. The ringing in her ears died down, and the light sensitivity faded. She felt powerful, strong. perfect. Danae forced herself to a standing position, looking at her hands. They seemed to glow.  
  
"Get me a sword," Danae said steadily, looking out the window.  
  
James looked up. "What?"  
  
"Get me a sword," she repeated.  
  
James scrambled to his feet, looking at her. "You can barely stand. you can't fight a demon." He looked her over. "Or. maybe you can stand. But if I talk above a whisper, you lose it."  
  
Danae rolled her eyes characteristically. "Don't worry. Get me a sword, or I'll do it myself and break the case."  
  
Raising an eyebrow, James ran for the weapons cabinet. He opened it swiftly, drawing out a broadsword with an intricate carving on the hilt. He returned, tossing it to Danae. She caught it easily. "Stay in here," she ordered him. "The. demon thingy. is going down the street, towards our house, so you'll be safe." A thought occurred to her, and she growled. "Towards our house! Hell, I have to go."  
  
She reached for the door handle. "I can't just stay here!" James said.  
  
"Fine, look for a. spell or something." She yanked the door open.  
  
Danae jogged purposefully towards the demon, sword ready. She didn't know what was happening to her -- it was all so confusing, so odd, this power built in her muscles. She wasn't tiring at all from running carrying such a heavy weapon, and the adrenaline pumping through her veins made her feel giddy, almost. euphoric.  
  
"Hey, ugly!" Danae called. Will work on wittiness later, she promised herself. "Hey, over here!"  
  
It stopped it's slow, but constant, march down the street. It turned, hands sparking, large eyes focusing on her. "Grurf," it said.  
  
"Yeah, grurf, whatever," Danae said, running even faster now. She bounced a little on her feet, like she had seen the high jumpers do, and took her mark. Danae jumped up, higher than she had seen anyone jump before, flipping over the head of the demon. She jabbed her sword at it -- forget form and grace -- piercing its side.  
  
The demon roared, throwing out its fist and striking Danae. She fell back.  
  
"Damn!" Danae moved forward more cautiously, but James ran nearby. "James! You're supposed to be at the studio!" She blocked one of the demon's hits.  
  
"Sorry!"  
  
"Get in the house!"  
  
~~~~~  
  
James ran inside their house, flying up the stairs quickly. He went into his bedroom, throwing open the closet. "Where's my element incantations book?" he asked himself, checking the spines. "Demons of the Mediterranean, Virile Vampires, Princess Diaries. what's that doing there? Oh, there it is!" He grabbed it, going back down the stairs quickly, flipping through it to find just what he looked for.  
  
Danae hit the window, landing in a shower of glass shards. She stood quickly, many cuts on her arms. James tucked the book under his arm, taking a blanket off the couch--  
  
"Wait," Danae said. She held up an arm, and James watched the cuts begin to seal. Unable to believe his eyes, he took her wrist and pulled her to him, looking under the blood.  
  
"How--?"  
  
Danae smiled, jumping back out the window.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Danae dodged a few punches and flames from the demon, but it was obvious she couldn't win. She moved forward, striking at it, but it the monster just backhanded her. Wiping the blood off her chin from her cut lip, Danae turned.  
  
"James! Help would be good now!"  
  
He came out of the house, the book in his hands. He squinted at it. "Conglacio fusco, conglacio ardens."  
  
James pointed his hand at the demon and repeated, "Conglacio fusco, conglacio ardens!" A clear blue beam shot from his fingers, hitting the demon. With a final "Whurf?", the demon froze completely, still. "Decapitate it!"  
  
Danae leapt up again, heaving hard with the sword--  
  
The demon's head fell to the ground, and the rest of it followed shortly. Danae stepped back, dropping her sword. Eyelids fluttering, James caught her before she could hit the ground. "I'm okay," Danae insisted. She bent down, picking her sword back up. "We better get rid of. this." She waved her hand at the two pieces of the demon.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Danae placed her foot on the salamander demon's shoulder, pushing it out into the waters of Lake Tahoe. Its passing left a large dent in the sand, and the waves surged to accept its body. James handed her the head, eyes glassy and all wetness gone. She examined it one final time, then closed its eyelids.  
  
She threw the head into the lake, plunk audible in the clear night. James jammed his fists further into his jeans pockets, watching it sink.  
  
"Think they'll get the message?" Danae asked.  
  
"The demons in the Hellmouth? Probably." He scratched his chin and yawned. "That won't stop them, though. Now that it's open again, vampires, demons, and all things unpleasant will be drawn here. You have quite a job ahead."  
  
"Were you serious when you said you think I was Called?" Danae questioned, voicing the thought that had been bothering her.  
  
James was silent for a moment, then put his arm around Danae's shoulders. "Let's go back to the studio, and then we'll talk."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Danae wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her upper arms. She leaned on the concrete barrier around the top of the roof, and although a chilly wind blew, she didn't shiver from the temperature. James appeared at her side, giving her a sweater.  
  
"I set up the couch for you," James said gently. "It's not the best, but it's the most comfortable I can manage tonight. I'm sure the Council will give us some money to get some nice new furniture if we need it."  
  
Danae nodded. She hesitated, looking up at James. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Looking back over the town, she cocked her head to the side. "It's almost kind of pretty -- or it would be, if our house wasn't down there burning."  
  
The town was spread in front of them, flames leaping and dancing from many a building. Fire fighters traveled about, trying to get a hold of things -- James had warded the studio against fire, so they were safe there. Their house of the past three or four months, however, had no such luck. Danae really had nothing of emotional value there (the only object that really mattered to her was the cross around her neck), but it still hurt.  
  
"I think you were Called," James said abruptly. "There are two kinds of Callings, you see: natural, and unnatural. A Slayer is expected to die by the hand of a demon or the like. That's a natural death. Occasionally, the Slayer will die in a car crash, or by a mortal's hand, or an accident in general."  
  
"And that's an unnatural Calling?"  
  
"Precisely. In such an event, the body of the former Potential is overwhelmed, or shocked into being a Slayer. The body overcompensates, shifting into high gear. Until there is a successful Slay, she will feel sick, but in a fight, her system will be hyper-accelerated. This includes an incredible healing rate, great stamina, and strength abnormal even for a Slayer."  
  
"And that's what happened to me," Danae finished.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Will I return to. normal?"  
  
"You're probably already nearing the norm for Slayers," James said, although he knew that wasn't what Danae had meant.  
  
Danae shivered again. "How long will I live?"  
  
"You could have a normal life span," James said. She could hear the lie in his words.  
  
Danae didn't say anything more. She rested her head on James' shoulder and watched the town burn. 


	2. Some Days Suck

Danae: Vampire Slayer Series One, Episode Five Some Days Suck, or Danae and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day, by Head Staff Writer RainTiger  
  
---  
  
Some days suck.  
  
It's just a fact of life. Every so often, people wake up one morning and things are just terrible. Horrible. Something happens that starts a series of events, one thing bringing about another and another.  
  
This is just one of those days.  
  
Danae slapped her alarm off, groaning. School should be illegal, she decided, or it should start at noon and end at one, and you get an hour long lunch break. Scrubbing her face, she opened her eyes very slowly against the light she knew would be there.  
  
The first thing she noticed was that the blinds (temporary, until she could decorate her room) were closed. The second was the face looming above her, snarling and dripping.  
  
Hollering, Danae instinctively lashed out, hitting the vampire woman square in the jaw. She fell back, and Danae rolled off her bed as quickly as she could, hitting the floor and ripping one of her sheets. Growling, the woman lunged at her again, fingers in claws and in game face. Danae rolled onto her back, kicking up with both legs and hitting her in the chest.  
  
Jumping to her feet, Danae pursued the vampire. She grabbed her arm, pulling her back towards her to meet her fist. She hit her nose, and the vampire used her backward force to pull Danae down on top of her. Shoving her in the shoulder, the vampire climbed atop her, wasting no time in reaching down to bite her.  
  
Holding her hands up to force the vampire's teeth away from her throat, Danae yelled loudly, "James! Stake!"  
  
The vampire grabbed her neck, lifting her head, then slamming it back down against the floor. Stars danced in front of her eyes, both from lack of oxygen and pain.  
  
Danae lifted her hands again and took the woman's head in her hands, twisting it. Her neck didn't break, but the vampire got off.  
  
Danae's bedroom door opened, and a startled James threw her a stake. While the vampire still tried to get her bearings back, Danae brought the stake down hard.  
  
The vampire exploded in dust and bone flakes, and Danae let her stake drop to the carpet. Danae climbed to her feet, putting a hand on the wall to prop herself up. James looked down at her with concern, leaning against the door frame. "Are you all right?"  
  
"How did a vampire get in?" Danae asked, coughing.  
  
"That looked like Amelie, one of my dance students," James said, "and that would mean she sort of has an invite. I guess that our house isn't very secure, considering it's also a public place."  
  
"Fix it," Danae said, crossing to her dresser wearily.  
  
"Do you want to train?" James asked, following her into the room.  
  
"An emphatic no," she replied, opening a drawer, then turning. She held a pair of underwear in one hand. "Do you want to be in here when I change?"  
  
"Sorry," he apologized, flushing.  
  
"Good. I'm not in a voyeuristic mood." She turned back and heard him leave and shut the door.  
  
---  
  
The heavy air spoke of cold rain, but Danae didn't mind the cold or rain. It had been sprinkling very lightly for the past fifteen minutes as she had strolled leisurely in the general direction of school along the main street, and she turned to the forest path shortcut. It was generally safer to stay on the main street, Danae knew, but she didn't think vampires at seven forty five in the morning would be a problem.  
  
She didn't take into account the clouds.  
  
Strolling along the path, Danae stuck her hands in her pockets and began to whistle. One attack in the morning wasn't necessarily an omen of a bad day -- it could just be a bad morning. Her mood began to lift.  
  
Something shot out of the bushes, ramming her in the side. Danae fell against a tree, a few knocked-loose ants dropping into her hair. Ignoring them (for the moment), she winced, looking at what hit her.  
  
A hideous male vampire sneered at her. "You slew my mate!" he cried with the characteristic lisp that vampires with their fangs down had. He jumped at her, and Danae kicked him in the face. He was even worse than the woman.  
  
"Sorry," she apologized without meaning it. Taking a stake from her boot, Danae moved forward for the kill, only to be kicked in the shin. "Ow! That's really stupid, you know."  
  
Danae stabbed him in the chest, and he dusted. Now concerned with the ants, she quickly ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get them out. "Ick," she said with a sigh. Picking her bookbag back up from where she had dropped it beneath the tree, she brushed at her hair again.  
  
She arrived at school late, and with another addition to her already bad day, her dean swooped down on her immediately, dragging her off to his office. "Miss Gray," he said as he pulled her, and Danae wished she could stake him, "this is the thirty second time you've been late to school this year, and you've had twenty nine absences, twenty three tardies to class, and are failing four of your six classes. You don't seem to do your homework, or care about studying. What do you have to say about that?" He pushed her into a chair in front of his desk.  
  
"You have a really good memory for statistics?" Danae asked weakly, hoping for a laugh. The balding man didn't even have the courtesy to chortle.  
  
Mr. Hemmingway picked up the receiver on his phone, dialing what Danae recognized as their home phone number. "I don't think you need to call Ja-- er, Mr. Edwards. He's really busy, and he knows that I have--"  
  
"James Edwards?" the dean barked into the phone. "This is the school dean, Mr. Hemmingway, and I have your ward in my office right now. Are you busy?"  
  
"No, not at the moment," Danae could hear James say, and she rolled her eyes.  
  
"Are you aware of the amount of time Miss Gray has missed?" he asked, then began shooting off the numbers. It was a splendid performance, and Danae could tell he enjoyed complaining.  
  
"Yes, I am aware," James said impatiently. "Miss Gray is not used to public schooling, Mr. Hemmingway, and there are certain things that need to be cared for immediately. Her extracurricular schedule is quite filled, and she needs--"  
  
"She wrote her extracurricular schedule as being fighting and dancing," the dean said, lifting a paper Danae had written in her English class earlier that year. "Fighting?"  
  
"Not fighting in the usual sense. She means--"  
  
"I don't care what she means. She's a trouble maker, and a disruption. This needs to be amended." Mr. Hemmingway paused, shuffling through his papers. "You are not her father, am I correct?"  
  
"Yes," James said, a definite warning in his voice.  
  
Uh-oh. Danae recognized the direction this conversation was going in. They had gotten this talk many times.  
  
"If you don't care for Miss Gray better, I may have to recommend she is moved to a family where they will make sure her school attendance and performance is better." Danae winced. Her dean had said the worst thing he could possibly say.  
  
Danae and James had lived together for over three years, nearly four. All sorts of things had been said about them -- from them being heretics to being sent by God, from demon slayers to demons themselves. James never minded, and neither did Danae. It was only when people started in on the relationship they had or questioning his guardianship that James took offense. Several churches had tried to take Danae ("the poor little child") from him, some saying he had kidnapped her or that he was some pedophile and had brainwashed her. Danae laughed at them, but James. well, he didn't appreciate it.  
  
James had become very quiet, but when he spoke, it was with a very icy tone. "Danae is fine where she is. There is no possible way you could legally take her, and with all honesty, you could never physically take her, either. I will make sure she does better, but never. never. suggest that again." Danae was proud. He hadn't lost his temper.  
  
Mr. Hemmingway swelled with anger, about to reply, but Danae heard James hang up. Almost instantly, her cell phone rang. Danae answered it. "We'll talk tonight, Danae, but ignore that bloated arse for now," James commanded her.  
  
"Yes sir," Danae said, and couldn't help but smile as she turned off her phone.  
  
The dean, feeling very put-off, lectured her for the rest of first period until the passing bell rang. Danae nodded, looking like she was interested, but really trying to come up with new fighting tactics. When he finally excused her, she stood and headed for second period.  
  
Her phone rang.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Danae, it's me. I hate to draw you away from classes, but the studio -- I'm under attack." He sounded incredibly annoyed.  
  
"How many and what?"  
  
"About a half dozen vampires."  
  
"Coming," she said, putting her cell back in her backpack and turning -- running into Anthony. "Sorry," Danae apologized, trying to move past him.  
  
"Where's the fire?" Anthony joked.  
  
"Um, I have to go," Danae said, breaking free guiltily.  
  
Anthony turned to Gabi. "She doesn't know I exist," she heard him tell his friend as she ran.  
  
If she hadn't been so worried about James and the studio, Danae would have gone back and asked him out. Unfortunately, she had a job to do. Running at top speed, Danae passed the now-empty Rain's Jewelry, appropriately named as the heavy weather fell in freezing sheets. Cold rain was one thing, this icy downpour was another entirely. Wrapping her jacket around her better, she skidded around the corner.  
  
The front windows of the studio were shattered, door off its hinges and on the ground uselessly. Danae went through the frame and was instantly attacked by the third vampire that day.  
  
Grabbing the door jamb, Danae lifted herself and kicked it soundly in the chess, wood-healed shoes dusting the vampire. She jumped forward, bending to dodge another blow, then throwing a vamp into a wall, breaking a lamp. Another struck her in the temple, making her fall back against the first. A shard of the bulb from the lamp sliced her side, and the first shoved her into the arms of the second.  
  
Danae felt fangs on her throat, and dropped to the floor. She blindly threw her stake backward, and judging by the sound, dusted one. The remaining vamp kicked her in the sliced side, but Danae had enough room to kick up --  
  
The vampire reeled back, then exploded. Danae lay still for a moment, gasping. She had landed on her cross, and she could already feel a bruise coming.  
  
A shattering sound told her there was still fighting upstairs, so Danae climbed to her feet and staggered up the stairs. In their kitchen, James was holding up a cross in the corner. A vampire with a mass of gold hair advanced on him.  
  
Weary, Danae took her own cross from her jacket and threw it long-end first. It sank into the demon's back.  
  
Once it had fallen, Danae collapsed in a kitchen chair. James sank to the floor at her feet, hand on his forehead. "I'm tired," Danae said simply, pressing a hand on her side wound to stem the flow of blood.  
  
"Just a moment," James said, "and I'll get the bandages."  
  
---  
  
Danae patiently held her shirt up so James could wrap her torso. He first cleaned her sliced side gently (it only hurt like Hell), then wrapped her neatly. She lowered her shirt again, leaning back against the couch. James gathered his supplies, rising and taking them back to the closet. Danae sighed, propping her feet on the coffee table.  
  
"What are we going to do about the school situation?" Danae asked.  
  
James began clattering about in the kitchen, preparing dinner. "I'll try and make sure you get there on time more often, but when you have a fight, you have a fight."  
  
Danae smiled. "Hey, you want me to put plastic over the windows downstairs?"  
  
"Sure. And if you wouldn't mind propping the door back up.?"  
  
Danae stood carefully, walking downstairs and retrieving thick plastic (so sad they had that in great demand), then putting it expertly on the place where the windows had been. She lifted the door, resting it on its hinges. By the time she was done, James was calling, "Dinner!"  
  
Going back up, she sat down. James set a plate of spaghetti in front of her, then sat across from her. "I'll get the glass replaced tomorrow," he promised, spearing a meatball. Danae twirled spaghetti around her fork, then raised it to her mouth --  
  
WHAM!  
  
The large windows shattered, raining glass on their table. Dana dove under the table, James meeting her under there and instinctively protected her, folding over her. The table above shuddered, taking the weight of a heavy demon.  
  
Danae winced from the pain in her side, but it was somewhat dulled by James' comforting pressure on her back. The demon roared. "Slayer!" it screeched, like bones rattling on rock. "Slayer!"  
  
"Run, James," Danae whispered. "Get me a weapon."  
  
"The sword's in the corner, and I'm not going anywhere," he said stubbornly.  
  
"Fine," she said, pulling out from under him.  
  
"Slayer!"  
  
Danae rolled, going to the corner near the fridge. She yanked a plain katana out, standing. The demon was ugly and lizard-like, but then, weren't most? "What?" Danae asked.  
  
"Slayer," it said satisfactorily, jumping off the table. Danae wasn't in a fighting mood, and swung the sword a little, preparing to kill it.  
  
"Its heart's in its stomach!" James called.  
  
Nodding, Danae moved forward. Apparently, it wasn't in much of a fighting mood either, and immediately grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and flung her against the wall, opening a gash on her forehead. It threw her to the floor, then took a fistful of hair and pulled her up. Danae shoved with her sword, embedding it in the shoulder. Screeching, it moved enough for her to stand. Flipping forward, she kicked it twice in the stomach. The screech grew worse, and in its agony, fumbled for her blindly.  
  
It managed to grab her left arm, and instinctively threw her. Her upper arm snapped, bending backwards oddly. Crying out, Danae switched hands and ran forward one last time.  
  
The sword planted in its stomach, and with a great gush of blood, dissolved into nothing. Danae's face scrunched up, taking deep breaths and holding her arm in place. She counted slowly to ten, concentrating, and the pain (which she was quite used to) stopped bothering her quite as much. James scrambled out from under the table, taking her arm and moving it slightly to see if it was broken.  
  
"Yes, it's broken, James!" Danae said.  
  
"Do you want to go to the hospital.?"  
  
"Me? Go to the hospital? Right!" She looked around at the shattered windows, and blinked rapidly, trying to keep the blood from her forehead out of her eyes. "My cuts'll be gone when I wake up, and my arm'll be back to normal in a couple days."  
  
"Let me wrap it, at least," he said. Taking out the medical supplies -- again -- he expertly wrapped and made sure her arm wouldn't move. Preparing a sling, he absently asked, "Would you like to patrol tonight?"  
  
Danae stood still, shocked for a moment that he'd suggest that. Did he know what her day had been like? Turning, she walked away and fell into bed without changing.  
  
Some days just plain suck. 


	3. Alone and Unknown

Danae: Vampire Slayer Series One, Episode Five Alone and Unknown, by Head Staff Writer RainTiger  
  
---  
  
Gabi's hair hung in a thin veil over her face, legs curled under her. A gentle wind, both cold and slow, ruffled the frills on her tan shirt, turning her cheeks pink while she idly wrote. Her pen danced across the pages, and she paused thoughtfully.  
  
"Anthony, what's another word for 'shiny'?" she asked, tapping the top of her pen against her lips.  
  
"Shimmering?" Danae offered, walking up and dropping her bag by the picnic- style table Anthony sat at.  
  
"Thank you, Anthony, but not quite what I was looking for," Gabi said, looking up at Danae with a smile.  
  
Danae shrugged, grinning. "I'm no thesaurus."  
  
"I don't know anything for shiny," Anthony admitted, glaring at the math homework he worked on.  
  
"Do either of you actually eat during the lunch period?" Danae asked, sitting on the ground in a patch clear of pine needles.  
  
"I think I did once in kindergarten," Gabi said helpfully.  
  
"Lucky for you guys James is a super chef. I once burned cereal," Danae said, opening her bookbag and pulling out a small ice chest. "We have chicken, pie, juice, chips. ooh, and deviled eggs."  
  
"Great!" Gabi said, smile broadening. She set her notebook aside, moving closer.  
  
"Join us," Danae ordered Anthony.  
  
"More than gladly," he replied, instantly dropping his trigonometry homework and plopping on the ground. "How did you carry all this? It must weigh a lot!"  
  
"I work out," Danae began, then stopped suddenly as Toccata en Fugue started beeping from her cell phone. "Hold on a sec," she said, taking out her phone and flipping it open. "Hello?"  
  
"It's me," James said from the other end, sounding urgent.  
  
"Hold on," Danae said, standing again. Holding the cell phone away from her, she walked further away from the school into the thick of the trees. A squirrel scampered away. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Sathy demon. Just rose from the lake, surfaced in the normal area. I need you -- now." James' breath came heavier. "Bring weapons."  
  
"Okay," Danae agreed, shutting her cell phone. Jogging back to her friends, she forced a smile to hid the hammering of her heart. "Guys, I'm so sorry, but I have to run. Finish the food."  
  
"Is something wrong? Do you need a ride?" Anthony asked, moving as if to stand.  
  
"I'm good. I'll call you later," Danae hedged, dancing on the balls of her feet. Slayer instinct has kicked in with her adrenaline, and she wanted a fight.  
  
"What about class?"  
  
"Bye!"  
  
Bouncing down the hill towards the studio, guilt washed over Danae. She hated having to hide her powers -- she would have to ask James if she could -- no. He wouldn't let her tell her friends about her.  
  
Running up to the cabinets in the studio, she slid a couple extra daggers into her jacket. She couldn't very well run around with a sword in hand in broad daylight, but if she remembered correctly, Sathy demons were both large and agile. Danae quickly hid a sword under her coat, and bolted out the back door.  
  
The run to the beach was all downhill, and very easy. Once she came in sight of the coast, though, she ran faster.  
  
James' hands were spread before him, glowing with the silvery power of his magic. A coarse monster stood before him, snake-like head hanging. It began to stir even as she flew down.  
  
"Let go!" Danae said, and James pulled back.  
  
The Sathy's head snapped up, nostrils flaring. It lunged at James, but Danae dove in front of him, slashing at its neck. It reared back, shooting to the left. Danae moved with it, raising her sword. One of its thin arms smashed into her torso, and she flew backwards into a rock.  
  
Her sword clattered to the boulders, and the breath rushed out of her lungs. Falling to her hands and knees, she gasped, trying to get a full breath. "Danae!" James cried.  
  
"S-stay b-ba-ack," Danae called in pants. The Sathy rushed forward, teeth tearing at her back. It mostly got jacket, but she rolled over, reaching for her sword away from the putrid breath.  
  
The thick tail struck her face, and one of Danae's eyes blacked out. Her fumbling hand finally found her weapon, and she blindly brought it up.  
  
Slicing through the neck cleanly, blood and mucus sprayed outward, covering Danae. The Sathy fell back, rolling back into the lake with a plunk.  
  
Coughing up demon slime, Danae sat up slowly, breathing returning to normal. James ran over, falling to his knees and helping her sit. His hands slipped on the goo briefly, but she made it up without falling back.  
  
"That's revolting. I should have warned you to kill it by jabbing its eyes," James said regretfully. Danae smoothed her hair back, slicking as though with translucent red pudding. Sight had returned in her bruised eye already, having just been shocked with momentary blindness.  
  
"Thanks," Danae said dryly, spitting more gunk out of her mouth. She wiped off her eyes and nose, looking at James. "Have anything to clean me off with?"  
  
"Right," he said, removing his shirt and offering it to her. She took it gratefully, making sure to get it good and slimy out of spite.  
  
"Next time, consider it regulation to tell me how to kill something when you call me," Danae said, cleaning off her arms and hands. James got to his feet, hauling her up by the wrists. Danae wiped her hair.  
  
"Back to school, then?" James asked.  
  
Danae gaped at him, sure he was joking. It slowly dawned on her he was serious, and she groaned. "This is going to be hard to explain to Gabi and Anthony," Danae muttered.  
  
---  
  
"His car got stuck in the mud," Gabi repeated, eyes wide.  
  
"You have a Porsche?" Anthony repeated hopefully.  
  
"It was the van that got stuck, not the Boxster," Danae clarified. Her hair was slicked back still, clothes heavy with reddish "mud." They walked slowly down the main street, down in the general direction of the studio. "He had something to do, and I had to help him push the car out of the. erm. hole." She made emphatic gestures with her hands, as though to show pushing something. "I didn't want to miss class, so I couldn't go home and clean up."  
  
"Aren't you cold?" Gabi asked, taking off her jacket and offering it to Danae. She turned it down.  
  
"I don't want to get. mud all over your coat," Danae said, waving her away.  
  
Uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Hey, Anthony, don't you have dance class today?" Gabi asked.  
  
"Yes!" he said. "Ballet."  
  
Uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Volleyball game Thursday," Anthony said finally, as though this were a last-ditch effort. "The whole town will be going."  
  
"Yes, sadly it's the social event of the season," Gabi said. "You should come."  
  
"Bring the Porsche," Anthony said.  
  
Danae sighed, rolling her eyes. "I might come. James might have me doing something tonight though." At their look, she hastily finished, "I've been in a lot of trouble in school. I have many make-up papers. So many I'll probably be gone all night."  
  
"If you change your mind." Anthony said, digging through his pockets and coming up with a paper, "then call my cell phone and let me know."  
  
Danae smiled. "Okay."  
  
---  
  
"Do you really want to hurt me?" wailed the demon onstage, wrinkled face scrunched up. A screen with lyrics below him was completely ignored -- karaoke night at Blood Bath.  
  
"You suck!" a vampire called from the audience.  
  
Another vampire chuckled, hidden in a corner booth. His soft brown hair was mussed, as though he had been too busy to groom himself, but it was done so artfully there was no doubt he put a lot of pride in his appearance. He hadn't apparently bothered with a shirt that day, but he bore worn jeans and heavy boots.  
  
"David! David, is that you?" A girl in a bright blue shirt bounced from behind the bar, black hair in a pile on top of her head.  
  
"Emily," he said, as warmly as he could muster. "How's the catch these days?"  
  
"More and more," she said, sliding into the booth with him. "Bryony is growing again. Humans are coming by with more regularity, practically begging to be eaten."  
  
David grinned, canines lengthening. His face didn't contort, though, and he watched the door to the bar open. A middle aged man walked in slowly. "Want something to eat? My treat!"  
  
---  
  
"It's hard," Danae complained, bending forward to place her hands flat on the floor. She stretched, straightening again and twisting.  
  
"What's hard?" James asked, sitting on a mat with several books surrounding him. He glanced at their spines, and remembering instantly what they were about (having a photographic memory), placed them in neat piles.  
  
"Going through life like this! I went to school and told everyone I had to push a van out of the mud, and that's why I was covered in goo," Danae said, bending backwards and touching her hands to the ground behind her. "I don't think they bought the mud story, by the by."  
  
"We'll try and get you cleaned up before class next time," James said, sounding uninterested. He opened a book, flipping through a few pages as though trying to recall what it was about.  
  
"'Next time'? James, I don't want there to be a 'next time'!" Danae stood normally again, then dropped to the mats and crawled over to him. He didn't look up.  
  
"It's a little hard to quit your job," James said, smiling in satisfaction and setting the book on a pile.  
  
Danae sighed, rolling her eyes. "I don't want to quit! I want to tell Gabi, maybe Anthony, why I leave like I do."  
  
His head snapped up. "Rule s--"  
  
"Screw the rules!" Danae put her face right in front of his. "This is hard. I don't see why no one can know."  
  
James shook his head. "No."  
  
"Why?"  
  
He sighed, sitting back. "Danae, you know I want you to be happy. It's first and foremost on my mind at all times. As you seem to forget, though, I'm also your Watcher, and I have a duty to follow what the Council says. They don't want civilians getting involved."  
  
Danae didn't let up -- as he moved back, she moved forward. As short as she was, she knew she could intimidate him. "But. James."  
  
"No."  
  
Making a disgusted sound, Danae climbed away from him and undid her ponytail. "I'm going out. I'll be back when I'm back."  
  
---  
  
"You should really stop eating like that," Emily said disapprovingly as David ripped out another throat, licking the blood happily from the neck cavity. He dropped the body of the woman on the curb, wiping his mouth. "There's a Slayer it town, you know. If you do that, she'll find you!"  
  
David cleaned his hands with his tongue, looking up through his eyelashes and smiling wickedly. "I know."  
  
---  
  
Danae sat tiredly on the table (to hell with benches), laying down. Gabi lifted her assignment from under Danae's back. "Not like I mind having you around, Danae, but this is a little inconvenient."  
  
"I'm sick of James. He's so over-protective," Danae complained, rolling onto her side and propping her head on her arm. "Can I move in with you?"  
  
"Sure, if you get off the table," Gabi said, pushing Danae playfully. "I hope you don't mind cats. I have a million."  
  
"I love cats, but James is allergic. Gah!" Danae cried, rolling off the table and sitting next to Gabi. "It all comes down to James. He's the cause of all my problems."  
  
"Not all of them, I'm sure. What about. your grades?"  
  
"I miss school so much because of him."  
  
"So I guess that means that your absences are his fault too."  
  
"Definitely."  
  
"Well, it's final then," Gabi said dramatically. "You must move in with me."  
  
Danae smiled, turning her face to catch the sunlight. "Who's moving in with who?" Anthony asked, coming up from behind them.  
  
"I'm going to move in with --" Danae began, looking up at Anthony -- and seeing James walking up the path. "James?"  
  
"James? You already live with James!"  
  
"No," Danae said weakly. "James. behind you."  
  
Everyone turned to see James, wearing a black turtleneck and blue jeans. The Boxster was down the hill, parked at the side of the road, and Danae couldn't tell if Anthony was looking at the man or the car.  
  
"Danae," James said as soon as he was in speaking range. " Nous être obligé faire ses adieux afin que nous combattre monstre."  
  
Danae sighed, understanding him perfectly -- although his syntax was horrible. She stood with a groan, walking over to him. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Oui."  
  
"English, James, English." Danae looked over her shoulder at her friends. "I'm sorry, guys. I have to go."  
  
James practically dragged her back down the hill, and Anthony leaned on the table with a sigh. "Wistful for the Porsche, or Danae?"  
  
"Both," Anthony said. "It's like I show up, and she runs for it."  
  
"It's so odd," Gabi said after a moment. "James said something about fighting a monster, but his French really needs help with the syntax."  
  
"Fighting a. monster?" Anthony asked curiously, moving closer.  
  
Gabi sighed. "As a friend, I would say we shouldn't follow them and see what they are doing. As someone who has an insatiable sense of curiosity, I say we follow."  
  
Anthony needed no more urging. Grabbing Gabi's arm, he dragged her down the hill to the parking lot and jumped in his car, a broken-down brown thing that was an antique in the seventies. Putting the pedal to the medal (which was a whole sixty miles per hour), he tried to follow the Porsche, guessing which way they went.  
  
"Are you sure you want to see what they're doing?" Gabi asked, turning sideways in her seat.  
  
"Of course! What do you think they're doing? Having. uh."  
  
"Maybe I should drive."  
  
"No! We'll lost the trail!"  
  
Gabi sighed, resting her head on her hand. "Boys and their chase scenes."  
  
They drove on at the incredible speed of sixty-five for several minutes, until they came across the Porsche at a lake viewpoint. Tahoe was spread out beneath them, rimmed by trees, and Anthony shut off the car. He got out cautiously, Gabi following. The rag top was down on the Boxster, and Gabi crept over carefully -- but no one was inside.  
  
Just then, someone screamed, "James!"  
  
"Danae?" Gabi wondered, but Anthony wasn't taking time to question. He ran down the steep slope, gait stilted but fast. Gabi followed, silently crying what the dirt and brambles were doing to her shoes. She immediately forgot about her shoes once she got in sight of the beach, nearly running into Anthony when he stopped suddenly only meters away.  
  
The sophomore was in a half-crouch in the sand, her crocheted duster blowing behind her. Her hands were in a defensive position, three daggers splayed in each hand. "Come on, aren't you hungry for a little Slayer? Normal meat isn't half as good," Danae said, her voice a tone Gabi had never heard before. It was inviting, dark, somehow playful, as though this were normal. She was a warrior, frightening.  
  
Gabi's eyes followed Danae's gaze, her jaw dropping open. A squat brown. thing with claws and the stature of a bulldog held James in its jaws, and he was limp, as though passed out -- or dead. It perked its ugly head, boils on its forehead jiggling. It spat out the man, and bounded forward.  
  
As soon as it had dropped James, Danae sprang up, daggers twirling. She kicked the monster in the jaw, passing most of the knives to one hand while she was still in the air, and stabbing at its eyes. She went so fast that Gabi could hardly keep up, and before long Danae was drawing a final knife and burying it in its back --  
  
With a squeal, it fell to the earth, sending sand flying everywhere. Danae instantly forgot about it, running to where James had been dropped. She put a hand over his heart, then quickly touched his throat -- checking for a pulse. "James," she said urgently. "James, talk to me."  
  
Danae sighed, and Gabi could tell by the way she moved she was worried. She clasped her hands together, raising them above her head, and was about the bring them down on his chest --  
  
James reached up, catching her wrists, coughing. "You'll break my ribs like that, Danae."  
  
"James!" she cried, throwing herself on him and hugging him. She shook as though crying.  
  
"Stop it," James said, patting her on the head. "You're embarrassing me."  
  
The dialogue sounded so casual, as though you expected someone to almost die every day -- in fact, as though the did die every day. Anthony turned to Gabi, whispering, "What was that?"  
  
Danae's head snapped up. "Who's there?" She stood slowly, and Gabi looked at Anthony, panicked. Should they run? "Who's there?" Danae repeated. "I heard you. Don't pretend you don't exist."  
  
"It's. it's us, Danae," Gabi said regretfully, moving forward.  
  
Danae froze. If anything was suited by the phrase "deer in the headlights," it was Danae at that moment. James scrambled to his feet, and Danae opened her mouth. then turned and fled.  
  
---  
  
"Bloody hell," James whispered, gaping at the screen of the laptop.  
  
"I know!" Danae said, dropping her head with a bang to the table, oblivious to why James really was frightened. "They hate me, I know it." Her voice was muffled against the table, and her hair was only centimeters away from getting caught in tomato soup.  
  
"Not that," he said disdainfully, turning around the computer so Danae could see. She leaned across the table to look.  
  
"Are you supposed to have access to the mortician's files?" Danae asked curiously.  
  
"The Council gave me permission," James said. "Now, look."  
  
Danae read the screen, looking at photographs of badly mauled bodies. They all had a line cut across the forehead and down the nose, like a giant bloody cross, in addition to ripped-out esophagi. "Pretty. Now I'm definitely not finishing dinner."  
  
"That's the symbol of a vampire named David-Nicholas. His claim to fame was going mad in the 1970s (something about disco) and turning large groups of people one by one, until a Slayer finally drove him into hiding. There are still about fifty known vampires in existence sired by David Nicholas," James said. "If he's doing this here and now. it means he wants you to notice."  
  
"Big deal, I'll Slay him. Meanwhile, I have a more pressing matter on hand! Now, my friends know there's something weird about me. I don't know how much they know. They probably hate me!" Danae said.  
  
"You've said that. Aren't you worried? David Nicholas may not be one of the most formidable vampires, but of the ordinary vampires, he is the worst. He's just below the ranks of Angelus and William the Bloody! He could possibly join them if he manages to. kill you," he said, voice lowering on the last part.  
  
"I'll be fine," Danae said. "But--"  
  
"Yes, yes, your friends hate you. I heard you." James rolled his eyes, sitting back. "You need to grasp the seriousness of the situation, Danae Elise Gray."  
  
"Ooh, you used my full name. Am I going to get spanked?" Danae grinned.  
  
James ignored her, scrolling down the page on his laptop. "I'm cross- referencing them with a map to follow his activity. Maybe that will tell us --"  
  
The phone rang. "I'll get it!" Danae said, hopping up and running for the phone. She slid across the wood floor, nearly running into a counter, and lifted the receiver. "Gray's Morgue, you stab 'em, we slab 'em."  
  
"Danae, it's Anthony," said the voice at the other end of the line. "I'm at the volleyball game," Danae slapped her forehead, remembering that she'd forgotten to go, "and we have. a little problem."  
  
---  
  
Anthony watched, paralyzed, as the man below strutted about, surveying his surroundings. "Almost an entire town in one place," he said with a slight lisp -- probably from the long fangs even Anthony could see from where he was. He had ridges along his brow, and the rest of his face was hideous and deformed. "How convenient."  
  
"He says he's David Nicholas," Anthony whispered into his phone. "Come quick." He hung up, putting it slowly down.  
  
"What's wrong with his face?" wondered Sara from Anthony's right side. David Nicholas ran a finger along the volleyball net, the teams bunched in a corner as though their sheer size was a protection.  
  
A handful of others as ugly as he were in the fringes of the room, scowling as though someone had insulted their mothers. "I want the Slayer," he repeated, voice at a normal volume. Everyone could hear him clearly, for no one dared to even sneeze -- the men had proven their power by snapping the neck of a dean, Mr. Hemmingway. "For every hour I don't see the Slayer, four of you become like me. Or maybe one every fifteen minutes, I can't decide."  
  
His minions, who had been prowling up the bleachers, stopped suddenly, grabbing anyone nearby. Sara was taken by the throat, and lifted to her feet. Anthony moved to stop them, but Gabi grabbed him and shook her head. "Remember what Danae called herself? Slayer," she whispered in his ear. "You called her here. She won't be long. Don't sacrifice yourself, cousin."  
  
Anthony nodded reluctantly, settling back on the bleachers. Sara waved at them as she was carried down -- once again, she didn't seem to care much for her surroundings. Out of mind, out of. mind.  
  
David Nicholas reached for Sara immediately, holding her by the throat. "This little girl here has fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes! If the Slayer is here, I expect some revelations."  
  
A science teacher, held by one of the vampires, started crying. Her eyes widened as his grip tightened, and she stopped sobbing. "Come on, Danae," Anthony whispered.  
  
"David Nicholas!" The voice came from nowhere, but Anthony recognized the tone that Danae had been using fighting that monster thing earlier. Gabi looked around quickly, then up in the rafters of the gym. A dark figure was crouched on a beam, a trapdoor leading outside open.  
  
David Nicholas noticed this, too. "Can the Slayer come down and play?" he asked tauntingly.  
  
A stake flew from the roof, narrowly missing a hostage and staking one of the men. He exploded in a cloud of dust, and everyone in the gymnasium stood suddenly, screaming and yelling. They trampled down the bleachers, everyone clamoring to get to one of the doors.  
  
Once again, the battle was fast-paced, but somehow it went faster, as though choreographed. Danae punched, David fell, he kicked, she fell back -- kick, hit, throw, pursue -- it was too speedy to keep track of their exact motions. The stake fell from Danae's hand, hitting the floor with a clatter, and he kicked her in the face.  
  
She stumbled, sliding several feet into the bleachers away from her stake. Gabi noted her vulnerability, running down to the ground. The man's back was to her as he knelt, mouth open and going for her neck. Gabi grabbed the stake, sliding it to Danae.  
  
The sophomore took the stake and in one smooth motion, lifted it. She hit him in the breastplate, and there was a moment where there was clearly shock on his face, and then he dissolved, leaving powder all over Danae's clothes and hair.  
  
Sneezing, Danae sat up, hand at her throat. She looked up at Gabi, smiling weakly. "Hi."  
  
---  
  
Danae opened the door to the studio, stepping inside to be met by darkness. "I saved the day again." She shut the door, sighing, resting against the wall. The windows had been replaced, and it was quiet except for music coming from elsewhere on the floor.  
  
She walked slowly to the dancing room, peeking in before entering. James sat at the piano they had for the use of some of the more musically inclined people, playing a tune from memory. He was wearing his pajamas already, which were black silk (Danae always teased him about that), and Danae crossed over, sitting next to him on the bench.  
  
"Very lovely, James. Are you trained in all classic arts?"  
  
"Some; dancing, painting, piano, harp, guitar --"  
  
"I get the hint." James took his hands off the piano, and Danae poked a key, to figure out what note she was on, then proceeded to plink out chopsticks, hitting more than a few wrong notes.  
  
"Stop, for the love of God," he said, and Danae stopped with a smile. He turned to look at her, and she tilted her head, waiting for him to talk. James put a lock of hair behind her ear. "You know how I always say I have your well-being in mind."  
  
"Of course," Danae said. "Except when you don't."  
  
He nodded. "I made something for you." James leaned down and grabbed something from under the bench, handing it to her. It was a black mug, steaming with a clear liquid, which had no smell.  
  
"Thanks for hot water?" Danae asked curiously, swirling it a bit.  
  
"Memory potion. If you get it in anything either Anthony or Gabi drinks, they'll forget you're a Slayer." James hesitated, as though unsure he'd done the right thing. "It's your choice."  
  
Danae leaned her head on his shoulder, looking into the depths of the cups. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and they sat quietly for a minute. Could she do it? Could she take time from their lives?  
  
But if she didn't, they would know too much about her. They would undoubtedly get involved, and possibly killed. Of course, if they hadn't known, they wouldn't have known to call her to the volleyball game.  
  
James interrupted her by kissing her on the cheek, then heading up to bed. She still sat for a long time, just staring.  
  
Danae walked over to a window, opening the glass. She held the cup over the ledge, and dumped the contents into the bushes below. Danae tossed it into the garbage, and went to bed without a qualm. 


	4. Past, Present, Future

**Danae: Vampire Slayer  
Series One, Episode Eight  
Past, Present, Future  
By Head Staff Writer RainTiger**

---

_"I cannot die in my dreams, for I am already dead untouchable." The girl, so pale, so frail, held her hand out. Her fingers pointed to the ground, palm out, arms straight. Cuts, shockingly red against white skin, drip slowly towards the earth._

_"You're in pain." It's a revelation, shocking._

_"Always." The girl walks forward, pulling the Other's hand to hers. The Other's palm begins to bleed as the girl's fingers tighten, nails digging into the backs of the Other's hand. "Aren't you?"_

"Oh, Ricardo," Jenna sighs.

Oops. My eyes open guiltily, realizing I have fallen asleep on a date with Anthony. It's not my fault I patrolled a little late last night, or that I find romantic movies boring beyond all reason, or the smell of buttered popcorn alluring. Anthony wouldn't understand, though. He doesn't patrol late.

I turn, looking at Anthony are we technically "going out?" I wonder and see him slumped in his seat, eyes closed, box of Goobers dangling from his fingers.

"Oh, Sarah," Ricardo sighs.

"Sarah? Who the hell is Sarah?" Jenna demands.

I smile at Anthony, who looks worn. I suppose even without late patrolling, he's tired. Ever since he learned my secret, he's put in extra hours at the studio, always at my hand, always friendly, always well, just plain available. For someone so delicately human, it would get hard after some time.

Hand curling around my soda (caffeine, naturally, being the gasoline for Slayers), I raise the straw to my lips. There's nothing in there but ice, rattling in the plastic.

Giving another glance to Anthony my boyfriend, if not in name, then in practice I raise from my seat. Marching slowly down the aisle, I turn and head for the lobby.

"There's no one but you!" Ricardo insists.

Shaking my empty soda, I hum quietly. The sound of popping corn grows louder, and I consider the money in my pocket. Popcorn's a little too greasy, but it always reminds me of when I was younger not much younger, granted, but there was a period of time when James always took me to the movies. Wherever we traveled, when I got depressed, he'd take me to the movies, get a popcorn, and we'd leave silently after. Something about it is calming, and makes me feel much better. It's the security blanket I'll never have.

Amidst the popping and snapping, I hear growling.

Don't the undead take Friday nights off?

Dropping my drink into the garbage can, I wipe the moisture left from the cup on my jeans. Rounding the bend hiding the snack bar from view, I see two vampires crouched near the concessions stand. Probably looking for an eat-and-run. The poor boy in his dumb movie vest is cowering from them, and I step forward.

"Over here," I say. I'm not in a witty mood.

The Ugly Couple turn, both the sort to obviously have never gotten dates when they WERE alive. Their faces are contorted, dark. It would have scared me when I was younger, but now I see this every night, and sometimes in the day when I read books.

I don't know how I draw my stake so quickly, just flying from my boot to my hand. Then the adrenaline breaks into my veins, and as my heart begins beating faster, my breath double speeds, and everything blurs.

If you were to ask me just how I fought them, I would tell you that after that first punch all the way through to each staking, I don't remember a thing. My memory has never been a strong point, but this is more the exhilaration, the heat and hunger, the excitement.

My stake hits the first vampire's chest, and I don't even pause to enjoy the explosion. I turn to the second --

My stake clatters to the floor, fist aching from the sudden kick. Everything jumps into sharp detail, down from the drool on the female vampire's chin to the black bruise on my knuckles.

_The girl walks forward, pulling the Other's hand to hers. The Other's palm begins to bleed as the girl's fingers tighten, nails digging into the backs of the Other's hand. "Aren't you?"_

_The Other nods, pulling back. The cuts are now mirrored on the Other's palm. "Forever."_

A slicing pain lances through my arm -- I panic. Grabbing at the vampire's face, there's a moment where shock shows on her face, and she too becomes no more than dust.

My knees cry out as I fall, staring at my hands. The crosses on my palms glow softly, light fading into nothing.

"Bloody hell," I say, and then there's nothing but black.

~~~~~

Waking up is not fun. It never is. My body relaxes into one position (usually fetal), and I stay that way all night, when my dreams aren't plagued with death and memories. It hurts to stretch out, to stand, and move my muscles. I wish, sometimes, I could just lay there all day and watch the sun cross the sky.

But then the vampires would catch up with me at night. James would worry. I would probably die.

My eyes open very slowly, and I feel as though I've been laying around for those long days, and my first response is to panic. My second, however, is to actually look where I am.

The tense face of my Watcher looms above me, my side pressed against his chest. James is a very strong man, but even so, I weigh little and carrying me really isn't a big deal. He looks stressed, though, and worried, and obviously hasn't noticed that I'm awake (sort of).

I don't say anything to encourage him to put me down; as I said, I like to lay around after I wake up.

His grip on me shifts as he opens the door to the dance studio (I recognize the sign far above), and am jostled about a bit as he climbs the stairs. Then, I allow myself to close my eyes. He sets me gently in my bed, a lovely four poster with drapes, and pulls back. Without his warmth against me, I automatically curl into fetal position. I'm so tired. Wasn't I just at a movie?

"Is she okay?"

"Where is she?"

Gabi and Anthony. Better move.

I sit up again, opening my eyes once more. James' silhouette is in my doorway, talking to Gabi and Anthony. Wherever Anthony is, there's always Gabi. It's almost like magic. The cousins never separate, not even for a date, I guess.

My hands itch. I look at my palms, resisting the urge, and see the familiar sight of my crosses. Had I put my hands on a vampire and dusted it? I can't resist but to scratch a little, nails not helping the itch.

"I'm awake," I say, just loudly enough for James to hear.

He turns, looking very relieved. James enters the room, Anthony and Gabi behind him, but instead of coming over to me, he goes to one of my bookshelves. There isn't much room in the dance studio for all of James' books, so many of them spend time in my own room. He pulls out an old diary, belonging to his aunt, flipping through. "What caused you to collapse? I seem to remember my Aunt's Slayer having some fainting spells"

"It wasn't that," I try and explain. "M-my hands--"

I held my hands out for James to examine.

_Her fingers pointed to the ground, palm out, arms straight. Cuts, shockingly red against white skin, drip slowly towards the earth._

Taking a deep breath, I hold my arm steady. James crosses over, Anthony so close behind it looks like they're going to trip over each other. Gabi now has the journal of Ms. Watson, and is looking through it, entranced. James touches the cross on my palm. "That's not unusual. I've seen your tattoos before."

"Not all of my tattoos." I can't help but smile -- my eyes ask, Do you even know where all of them are?

"All of them," James says deadpan, but there's a slight quirk to his brow. Even if he HAD seen me naked (which he hasn't I think), there was one he wouldn't be able to see unless--

"As much as I hate to disturb this quite frankly, disturbing conversation," Anthony says, moving to block James from my view, "I'd like to know why you passed out at the movie."

"Vampires," I say quickly. I had neglected to tell James that I was going on a date, merely said, "I'm going out with some friends." James is beginning to look suspicious nonetheless.

"Vampires made you faint," he said skeptically.

"They'd make ME faint if I had to kill them," Gabi muttered, turning a page in the diary gently.

"You and Danae are very different--"

"There were vampires in the lobby. I went, staked one, and touched the other -- poof. That was it." I draw my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them. "I felt so weak after, I just kind of collapsed."

James pushes Anthony aside (much to his annoyance), taking my hands again and sitting at my feet. His brow furrows. "They haven't changed, but you think that they were the cause?"

I nod. "Definitely. They were glowing after I dusted him."

"Afterglow," James says thoughtfully.

Gabi coughs.

"Magic afterglow," James says, annoyed. "Teenagers, all those raging hormones. Think everything is an innuendo."

"Right, old man, you were a teenager so long ago," I say, squeezing his hands. We both laugh. I don't know when specifically, but James was born in the early seventies, so he could only be six or seven years out of the land of teenage-hood.

"Back on the subject" James says suddenly, standing. "I seem to remember Alex shipping me a book on magical curse scars and markings. I haven't gotten to read it yet" His voice recedes as he walks into his own bedroom.

"Alex?" Anthony asks. He takes James' seat as Gabi puts her book away and joins us.

"Identical twin brother." Gabi smiles. "He's a weapons expert/Watcher he was off in Australia last time he checked in with us. Sometimes he sends James books." I decide not to mention how irresponsible he is, too -- Alex was supposed to be my Watcher, but as soon as they told him, he ran off and hid somewhere in Africa. The Council is still waiting to get their hands on him -- they still want him to train me.

"How many tattoos do you have?" Gabi asks, grinning widely.

"Seven," I reply instantly. "Two on my hands, one between my shoulders--"

"Ah ha!" James says triumphantly, re-entering the room. Anthony looks disappointed, but Gabi simply turns to face him.

I continue, "One on my lower back, one around my navel--"

"I think I found something." James sits to my side, holding the book out for me to see. All I catch is a picture of a cross, with simple design yet intricate lines, before he pulls it back. "The Mark of the Trivius." Frowning at it for a moment, he said, "This is in Latin, at which I'm a little rusty, but I believe it roughly says, 'At the crossroads of life, these are tattooed on a being at either the nape of the neck or hand. They are often enchanted with a specific purpose, and the activation spell as well as the purpose are individual to each situation.'" He snaps the book shut.

"That tells me nothing!" I cry, annoyed.

James gives me a very intense look, so dark that I nearly lean away from him. "If you remember anything anything about how you got those, I must know."

Biting my lower lip, I hang my head. I wish for once I did remember. "I'm sorry." Anthony puts an arm around my waist, and I lean my head on his shoulder. He glares at James (probably for upsetting me).

"There is something you can do though, right?" Gabi asks, patting my hand comfortingly while she watches James. "Like a a magic-y thing."

"Actually" James says, still looking at me. "It could be painful. And we'd need protection anchors to this world. Three at least."

"We?" I ask, yawning. I'm still tired.

James raises, gesturing for Gabi and Anthony to follow. "I'll take care of this. You need rest, Danae."

~~~~~

"So here's how it's going to work," I begin to explain. Wrapping my jacket tighter around myself, I blow into my mittens to warm them. Damn, but it's cold up here and it has hardly even snowed! "James and I are going to do this spell thing (more him than me, obviously), and you will stand just outside the circle, as anchors."

Walking slowly with Anthony's protective arm around me, and Gabi warming my other side, I lift my boots carefully and set them down again. The trees are frosted to a lovely green-tinged white, my breath coming out in great puffs. The very air is sharp, but Anthony is still looking fresh and happy well, as happy as he ever really looks.

"The two of us? Who's the third anchor?" Gabi asks, hair matted around her face. "James did say three, right?"

"Three," I confirm, snuggling closer to Anthony. "Do you think Sara would do it?"

"Does she even know?" Anthony asks, surprised.

"Erm no." I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, ducking my head. "But I think she should know now. There's been so much the Guardian, those monks, Ethan Rayne the David-Nicholas hostage situation."

Anthony groans, remembering. Gabi sighs, shaking her head woefully as we pass the ruins of the laundry (exploded by the Guardian). "If she isn't figuring it out already, I think that says a lot," Gabi remarks. I laugh.

"I suppose so," Anthony agrees doubtfully.

"Christmas soon!" I remember suddenly. "How long a week?"

"Haven't you been noticing all the happy decorations?" Gabi asked. "The Christmas cheer? The never ending songs at the grocery store?"

"My attention has been elsewhere," I mumble sullenly.

"I already have gifts for both of you," Anthony says.

Aack.

We walk up to the studio, empty on the first floor at the moment. However, there is noise from upstairs.

"I'm sorry, I'm not interested in that case," I hear James say, sounding incredibly annoyed.

"But--"

"No."

"--don't you--"

"No!"

James comes down the stairs, wearing a deep blue jumper and followed by what looks like a senior boy with blonde hair. James' lips are tight, looking very severe. Usually when he gets that expression, he starts telling me just how insufferable I am.

Gabi begins smiling broadly is it that senior?

The boy crosses his arms, eyes narrowing. "If you reconsider, call me." He shoves a paper at James, and pauses, looking at Gabi, before brushing past roughly.

The door leading outside slams.

"What'd he want?" I ask, brushing snow off my mittens and peeling them off. I set them on the banister.

James rolls his eyes. (It's so cute when he does that. He picked it up from me.) "Little git. Wants me to do a favor."

"What--" Anthony begins, but James cuts him off. Poor Anthony.

"Do you have the supplies?" James asks me.

I take my jacket off, holding a brown paper bag. James takes my coat, folding it over his arm. "Right here. All those crystals, herbs and sands you want."

"And the third anchor?"

"Um coming along," Gabi says.

"And final on the agenda," James finishes, "what do you want for your birthday, Danae?"

My heart sinks. I hate birthdays. "Birthday?" Anthony asks, perking up. I rub my upper arms.

"On the twenty fifth," James says.

"Christmas?" Gabi looks so delighted.

I hate James.

"Yes," I sigh, "and don't worry about it."

"I need to buy her another present now," Gabi whispers clearly to Anthony.

"Danae doesn't like this time of year," James says playfully. "It makes her feel old."

"That's not why!" I insist. It's true. I don't like birthdays because I never celebrated them with my parents, and I think it's a very stupid and immature tradition. James doesn't agree, of course. He's celebrated my birthdays almost religiously for the past three years; my sixteenth should be even worse.

James switches the subject suddenly. "On an equally important note, I want you all on the beach at nine thirty tonight. Wear very warm clothes, and Danae swimsuit." That's his plan. I'm going to freeze to death for my birthday, aren't I? "Bring me the third anchor."

He leaves quickly, and I turn to Anthony. "I'm going to do a little exercise. If you can wait a few for me to get some frustration out, I'll go with you to Sara's."

"Sure," Anthony says. "In fact, I'll even train with you."

~~~~~

"Sorry!" I apologize again, wincing. I finish wrapping Anthony's torso with bandages, his shirt on the couch next to him.

"It's all right," he says with a groan. "I don't think anything's broken, just cracked."

Handing him his shirt back, I sigh. I hadn't meant to get so rough with him, but I'm more used to fighting James and vampires -- both of which seem to be a bit sturdier.

"I'll get over it," he moans, moving carefully to put his shirt back on. He looks very yummy (except for the look of intense pain).

"Down hormones," I bid myself silently. Out loud, I say, "Still want to go get Sara? I'm sure I could talk to her alone"

"I think I should go too," he says, standing. I get off the couch, holding his arm to steady him. "I've known her longer. It'll be better for me to explain."

"As long as you don't think you need to go to the hospital," I mutter doubtfully, walking over to the closet to get my coat.

In little time, we're back outside in the cold headed for Sara's place. We don't really talk much on the way there -- we're both thinking about how we're going to approach telling Sara. "Hi. Vampires are real, and it's my job to kill them. So, want to hold me in this plane with your mental strength?" No.

I've spent the last ten minutes thinking up a speech well, at least trying to and nothing is really working. Unfortunately, we're walking up to Sara's door now, and I still do not have any idea what to say. If not for the need for a third anchor, I'd just say "Screw this" and go home.

Anthony's hand goes up and hits the doorbell, a pleasant bell tingling loudly. A woman with wiry hair answers quickly. "Yes?"

"We're here to see Sara," I say. "Is she home?"

She moves aside, opening the door wider. "Sara's upstairs, in her room. Hello, Anthony."

"Hi, Mrs. Freidman," Anthony greets, smiling. Freidman? He enters as I follow, and we climb the stairs. "Do you know what to say?"

"No idea," I laugh.

I come to a door with a hand-painted sigh that says "Sara" very quickly. Knocking, I hear a quiet "come in," and I push the door open.

Sara, wearing glasses perched on her nose, looks up from her computer. "Hi."

"Hi, Sara, hope we aren't interrupting anything," I say cheerfully, crossing the bare room (she has no posters, no makeup just a bed, closet, and the computer desk).

"No. Is something wrong?" Sara removes her wireframes.

I exchange a look with Anthony. He nods at me. "We have a favor to ask."

"I'm not an ordained priest, so I can't marry you," she says dryly. Is Sara making a joke?

"Don't worry," Anthony says instantly.

I roll my eyes. "Anyway, this favor's going to take a bit of an explanation"

~~~~~

James puts my hair over my shoulder, tracing the furrows behind my ears with his fingertips. I stand with my arms folded in front of me, eyes closed, seeing the fire light flicker before me. He leans forward, and I can hear him open a bottle identical to that which I hold. "This will only take a few minutes," James says quietly, and I can hear him through the rhythmic sound of the waves nearby.

A spot on my back is suddenly colder, and it spreads as James slowly works oil over the skin of my back. I hang my head, allowing my hair to fall before me. The cold shortly begins tingly, warming my muscles and making it hard to stand. I lock my knees, keeping my back straight, and take deep breaths. It stings the tiniest bit around the edges, more an itch than a pain, but I don't scratch.

The rest of my body is already covered, torso under my low-backed swim suit, face, legs, arms, even my scalp and my hair greased. James drips some oil on the small of my back, causing me to gasp from the sudden sensation of an ice cube being drawn along my spine.

"Will this take long?" Anthony asks. He is outside the circle, nearest to the water, and Sara and Gabi are at their own positions.

"It will seem about ten minutes to you," James says, running his fingers around the edge of my suit to be sure he didn't miss a spot.

"The oil--" Gabi began questioningly.

"Is a magical conductor plus, it will keep us warm, even in the wind," James explains, corking his bottle again. I turn, and James' bare chest glistens in the playing light of the bonfire. "Sit."

I settle on the sand, grains sticking to my slimy skin as I fold my legs. James settles in front of me, moving close enough so our knees touch. He reaches behind himself, coming up with a large, clear crystal. "Will this hurt?" Does it matter if it does? I ask silently.

"Possibly. This will put us in your memories, and it will not feel good to dredge them up again. What you remember may not make sense at first, but you will be able to tell after a while when this is."

His lips begin to move silently, a chanting rising up out of the waters of Lake Tahoe. A chorus of voices repeat over and over a single phrase in Latin, the crystal beginning to glow. Several moments pass. I wonder when the spell is going to

My face splatters in the mud, hands tied behind my back. My wrists ache from the cords, but I can't twist my hands enough to get them out of the bindings. The grainy taste of dirty street mingles with blood from a knocked-loose tooth, and I turn enough to get my face out of the muck. "We don't allow children in here," a demon spits. The heavy door clangs shut.

Calmly standing, I shake mud out of my hair. The back streets of Ashwan aren't the cleanest of places, and it's all I can do but hope that it is mud I'm shaking from my hair. I walk down the street, hoping that I can find something rough to undo my ropes with. It shouldn't be too hard, but --

"Wake up," a voice soothes, and immediately it's all dark. My hands lay, unbound, at my sides, and the back of my head aches. Cool hands brush hair out of my face. "Wake up."

Although my head does hurt, the rest of me is significantly more comfortable. I don't want to wake up; where I lay is too soft to stir. With an inward sigh, my eyes open slowly, blinking difficult. A face swims into clarity amongst draping white sheets -- a friendly old man with long silvery hair slicked back. He wears long robes, covering his form.

I sit up slowly, painfully. I'm in a large bed, comfortable and all white. "Good morning," he says soothingly, as though trying to calm a frightened cat. He's speaking in French, but I understand him perfectly.

"Where am I?" I demand (also in French-), closing my eyes. I rub my brow, trying to make my headache disappear.

"My servants were on an errand in Ashwan," he explains, "and you were found, attacked by a Fyarl. What is someone as young as you doing in a demon town?"

My eyes flick down to my hands, examining the odd cuffs. The Fyarl definitely explained my headache, and my sudden passing out. "My parents, they have gone missing. I am looking for them."

He looks sympathetic, and appears deep in thought. I take the opportunity to examine my surroundings -- I'm in a large four-poster (which I am nearly swallowed in), but the room is large enough to compensate. There is an armoire, heavy-draped windows, a mahogany desk, a grandmother clock, and many dolls. "Why do you have dolls?" I ask, then realize it's a rude question.

Luckily, he just laughs. "They belonged to my daughters."

"Oh." I decide not to ask where they are now. "And who are you?"

"I am Francis," he says simply, "master of this household. Who are you?"

"I am Danae." Francis smiles again -- he is a very pleasant person.

"I am very pleased to meet you Danae," he said as the clock began to strike nine. He stood, clapping his hands together. "There is a lovely breakfast prepared, if you are interested."

"Breakfast?" Ooh, I haven't eaten breakfast in days. Weeks, perhaps. The thought of waffles and pancakes and bacon and sausage and melon has my mouth watering. "Real breakfast?"

"Real breakfast!" he laughs, and his laughing makes me laugh. My face sort of hurts. I guess I haven't laughed in a while either.

~~~~~

Anthony, Gabi, and Sara sat.

And sat.

"I'm bored," Anthony announced.

Gabi checked her watch. "It's been a minute and a half."

Anthony sighed.

Anthony, Gabi, and Sara sat.

~~~~~

As I lay in bed tonight, I remember things from this morning. I hadn't noticed then, but when I ate breakfast, Francis did not. He simply watched, and smiled, and things were good. "How long can I stay here?" I asked, tempted by the delicious food and comfortable bed.

"As long as you'd like," he replied.

The grounds were incredibly huge. I looked at them after breakfast, changing into another outfit from my armoire. (Is anything in this place not massive?) Then, in riding clothes that fit perfectly, I rode on a horse from the stables. This place is like heaven, I realize. It feels as though everything was crafted to appeal to the senses. I had tried to ride to the outside of the grounds by lunch, but I hadn't even seen a sign of the end of the land. Was it possible that there was so much room?

I had gone back, handing the horse over to a stablehand, and gone for lunch. Francis hadn't eaten then, either, just watched me devour my food. We sat down in the study afterwards, and I found myself telling him all about the past month. "They were taken by a B'nav demon," I had told him. "I looked it up after they were taken. I can't recall how I first found where to look for them"

"That's right," I mumble to myself thoughtfully. "I'm beginning to forget. How odd."

I roll over, fingers curling around my hair. We had sat there for hours, amongst so many books and well-cushioned red chairs, toes in the fluffy rug, and just talked. But beyond the first few minutes, I don't remember what we talked about. "Remember" seems to be so important.

Dinner. The meat had been piled high, and they fed me anything I wanted. Francis wasn't there, and it was like they were trying to either distract me, or fatten me. It seems stupid to think that they're fattening me up to eat me for two reasons -- one, they have all that other food already, and two, it just doesn't feel like that. It feels like they just want me happy.

So, distraction is the obvious conclusion.

I'm sure that there's nothing wrong here, I decide. I'll stay for a day or two, then leave. That's all.

~~~~~

"I'm cold," Anthony complained.

"Shut up, it's still only been four minutes," Gabi said, bored.

"Anyone want to play twenty questions?" Sara offered.

Silence.

Anthony sighed. "Sure. It's not like we're going anywhere."

~~~~~

Five days had passed.

I hadn't meant to stay so long. Every day, the bed grew more comfy, the food grew yummier, and the only thing that wasn't better dramatically was my relationship with the horses (they still found it amusing to throw me in the mud). I found myself liking and never wanting to leave this place. Why should I? There's no reason to leave. I can't even remember how I got here.

Francis never shows up for dinner. I don't like it very much; eating dinner surrounded by silent servants without anyone to speak to. I began to wonder where he goes.

That's my problem. I'm too curious.

It's just after light's out, laying in my bed again. The house is silent, almost as though if I were to scream it wouldn't reach my ears. I'm under instructions to stay in my room at night so that the servants may properly clean outside, but I begin to think. Francis disappears during dinner and all times after. I'm banned from the basement.

What's in the basement?

Where does Francis go?

In the end, the questions really answer themselves. Francis goes to the basement at night, and there's something there he doesn't want me to see. I really shouldn't go down there.

Rolling out of bed, my feet hit the floor and I'm instantly moving. Taking my dressing gown from inside the armoire, I put it on quickly. Tip-toeing to the door, I press my ear to it -- there's no sound from outside. Turning the handle slowly, I open the door with care.

There's as little noise outside as there is within. Padding softly down the hall, passing vases and paintings as eye-catching as neon signs, I look around quickly. The door leading to the basement is only meters away.

"What are you doing out of bed?"

Gasping, I spin, and see Francis looking down at me. He isn't smiling, but he doesn't look particularly annoyed, either. His hair is mussed slightly, and there's a bruise on his cheekbone. "I'm sorry! I was looking for the-- bathroom. I got confused in the dark."

Francis smirks the littlest bit. "The bathroom is the other way. Shall I take you there?"

"Please," I say, relieved and disappointed.

~~~~~

"Sand," Gabi said, sounding incredibly bored.

"You guess too fast," Sara protested, folding her arms.

"Come up with more difficult things, then," Anthony said. "First fire, then trees, then sand? It takes about twenty seconds to guess!"

Gabi sighed, leaning back. Inside the circle, Danae and James were motionless, chests hardly even moving with breath. James' lidded eyes were glowing ever so slightly, but from where Gabi was, she couldn't see Danae's face. What was happening in there?

~~~~~

Not to be deterred, I went back to my room and sat, deep in thought. Francis was bruised, and his perfect white hair wasn't perfect. Even more sure that I had to get into the basement, I frowned. Would his guard be down, assuming I'd stay in bed now?

Determined, I stood again, and listened once more to the corridor. Footsteps recede down the corridor, away from the basement. Darting outside, I take no time in subtlety and dash towards the door. Even using my ability to be very quiet, my steps sound like daiko drums, and I throw open the door, shutting it behind me.

I'm met by complete darkness, the air a bit more damp, and I lean against the closed door. My heart pounds, and I blink rapidly, trying to get my eyes to adjust. Unfortunately, I still can't see anything after quite some time, and I reach out, looking for walls. They are close, wetting my fingers. I slide my foot forward, pleased to find the ground smooth.

I slide along like that for a while, fingers trailing lines and cracks on the walls while my feet watch for drops or rises in the ground. Worry leaks from my mind as I become absorbed in my task, and it's a comforting rhythm -- feel, slide, step, feel, slide, step.

The walls suddenly disappear, and I stand dumbly. I can feel the ends behind me, but I'm afraid to proceed without a guideline. Muttering angrily to myself, I step backward.

A torch flares to life ahead of me, and I reflexively close my eyes, wincing. Two more flares sound off around me, and I open one eye tentatively.

Holy shit.

I'm surrounded by what look like glass-topped tables, although I can't see inside any of them, and many shelves on stone walls -- but that's not what startles me. On the shelves, there are skulls and bones piled high, not arranged in any particular manner, as though someone had just randomly thrown them on there.

"What is this, Francis?" I whisper.

I step slowly towards one of the tables, light reflecting off of it so I could not see in. Squinting, I move to the head of the table.

Inside, there is a girl, pale and dark-haired. What's a girl doing in a glass table?

Oh.

Ew.

Pressing my hand to my stomach, I take several deep breaths, stepping a little away from the dead body. Francis has dead bodies in his basement. Francis has dead bodies in his basement. A little girl, to be in fact. I turn, looking in another table. Another pale, dark-haired girl.

And another.

And another.

They're all wearing a simple, high-necked white dress. Their hair is brushed straight, feet covered in little white slippers. I immediately think of my own look -- dark hair brushed straight, pale skin, and the white gown I wear every day. Am I going to be one of them?

"So, you've found my basement." Francis walks out of a shadow, and I lean unsteadily on a table. "I had hoped you would know better."

"Why?" I whisper.

"Things are complicated, Danae," he sighed, stepping forward. I instantly step back. "They were flawed, little one. They weren't perfect."

"What do you mean?" I keep walking backwards, trying to avoid him.

"They were my children, my daughters," he said, trailing his fingers on the glass of one. "Or, I wanted them to be. For so long I have searched for the perfect child. Someone I could raise to be like me."

"Like you," I echo. "What are you?"

Francis took a deep breath, folding his hands. He pretended to ignore me. "They all disappointed me. They questioned too much, or could not live up to my expectations. They could not fight at all, or they were not ladies." He leaned on one of the many cases. "She wanted her sisters back. I had hoped I could make her forget, make her realize she wanted me more than them." His face softened. "Marie was my latest. I had her for seven months, and I thought I could bring her to me. I have had the most hopes for you, though."

I hit a wall, unable to go any further back. "What are you?"

"You've forgotten your parents already," he continued, drumming his fingers on the glass. "You have perfect manners. You can fight and ride, although my horses don't really seem so fond of you, you're at least bilingual--"

"I haven't forgotten my parents," I say tightly. My face contorts into a sneer. "I'll never forget them."

Francis looks dangerous suddenly, the first time he's ever seemed threatening. "Liar." Such a simple statement.

It makes sense, suddenly. Perhaps I'm dense, perhaps I did forget, but there's a realization that finds its way to my mouth "You took them."

He leans back, smiling darkly. "I came for you, actually, but they were in the way. They knew I was coming. It's one of the reasons your pathetic little demon-hunting parents were on the run. Actually, they'd made many enemies along the way I was just one of them."

"Where are they?" I demand, voice loud.

"I--"

"Where are they?!"

Francis draws himself up. "So. This is your fatal flaw. I had hoped you'd be the one."

He slams me against the wall, and I didn't even see him go from a meter away to right against me. His forehead cracks against mine, head hitting the wall. His eyes glow darkly, and I try to draw away -- he strikes me in the abdomen, throwing me to the floor.

I'd never noticed how cold stone is.

Rolling away quickly, I clamber under a table, on all fours. The Francis monster grabs the side of the table, throwing it to the side, shattering against the floor. Gasping, I slide around to the other side of another one of the coffins.

There's only the passage leading back up to the manor, and Francis is in the way. Behind me, there's a heavy metal door, but I have the ominous feeling it's locked.

I expect hero-evil banter, as there always is in the movies, but he wastes no time talking. Leaping atop one of the sarcophagi, he bounds towards me. The door's my only chance. I spin, grabbing the handle and pulling with all my strength --

I'm thrown back as it opens, and I run inside, forgetting to close the door. The room is so long, and a dead end, but I can hear Francis' roar behind me and have no choice but to run. Abandoning my slippers, I beat my feet hard along the ground, pumping my arms.

The end of the room rushes towards me, and there's a large bronze-colored plaque on the wall. That's it. I run into it, palms flat against the metal, searching for anything.

My hands begin to burn, palms itching and warming. Pulling away quickly, I fall against the ground, flush on my back. The burning continues, and I clench my hands into my fists. This is no time for discomfort. My eyes are drawn up to the plaque -- lit by a single glowing torch. A massive ornate cross adorns it, softly shining a light gold. "Holy mother," I whisper, looking at my hands. The cross is on them.

I can hear Francis approaching, but a sense of calm has overtaken me, sinking deep in my bones. Sliding to face him, I see him rushing me, looking like a hacked off coyote. I hold my hands up, and my palms begin to shine.

He stops in his tracks, beams shooting from my hands and striking him in the chest. Francis is thrown back several feet, stumbling. "Where are they?" I repeat. "Tell me!"

Francis growls, elongated front teeth showing under his curled lip. "I know when I'm defeated." He turns, running back away.

"No! Tell me where they are!" I cry, chasing him. "Tell me!"

"Tell me!" I cry, throwing myself forward. The cold wind sweeps around me, and James catches me, then falls down to the sand.

Sobbing, I cover my eyes with greasy hands, curling. James slides out from under me, shuddering. "Is she okay? What's wrong?" The circle breaks, and Anthony and Gabi rush in. My knees pull up to my chest, and I cover my head to keep them back.

I can hear James crying a little, from sharing my memories and emotions. He bends down and whispers in my ear, "I'm sorry," then pulls back and stands.

"Is she okay?" Gabi asks urgently from above me.

James shakes his head silently, bending down to scoop me in his arms. Anthony protests, but I don't hear what he says. He exchanges words with James, and then a heavy jacket covers me, and I'm lain carefully in the van. I roll over, facing the back of the seat, and everything fades out as I fall asleep.

---

"Danae. Danae, wake up," James says softly, touching my shoulder.

"Mmf," I say against the seat in the van.

"We're at the studio," he says.

"Just put me in bed," I mumble.

"I'm not putting you in bed all oily like this. It'll be hard enough cleaning it out of the van." He hesitates. "Are you up to a shower?"

Sighing, I force myself to sit up, and take his hand to climb out of the van. He shuts the door behind me, opening the studio door. (He's always like this in public. It's nice, but almost embarrassing.) Wrapping myself more tightly in the coat, I go in and climb up the stairs.

Francis killed a dozen girls, and who knows who else along with my parents.

Francis killed my parents.

I can feel a cry rising up in my chest, but bite my lip and run for the bathroom, slamming the door. Throwing off the jacket and swimsuit, I jump in the shower and turn it on as hot as it goes. I tilt my face up to meet the flow, scrubbing at my skin.

He killed them.

I lean against the wall, allowing my head to drop down between my shoulders. I close my eyes tightly, ignoring the burn of the water.

Turning up my palms, I look at the crosses there. There's still so much left unanswered, so much I don't know. Why did the bronze thing do what it did? Why did Francis even have it? Why did he want a daughter so badly? What in the hell was he?

The tightness in my breast has returned, but I just shut off the water, fumbling around for a towel.

Why did he choose me?

I stare at my reflection. "Why?" I ask her, but she doesn't reply. I guess no one has an answer.

I slip on my bathrobe, tying it and walking down towards my room. I can hear James in his own bedroom, and go inside mine without letting him know I'm done.

My room has a four-poster with drapes and an armoire. I've always liked those items of furniture, but I've never known why.

Now I know.

The frustration and anger is building again, but this time I don't try and control it. I let the scream come out, cursing at Francis, at myself, at God. I smash my fist into one of the posts on my bed, breaking it, ripping the covers off and throwing them in a corner.

Grabbing the armoire, I heave it at the wall, my clothes spilling out as the sides of it crumple. I flip my bed over, remaining three posts buckling. Taking the post I had ripped off, I heave it at my mirror.

I shatter.

About to throw something at my window, James grabs me from behind, taking my arms and holding me still. I struggle against him, and I know I could break free if I wanted to, but I don't feel like putting the effort in. Dropping my wooden pole, I stop screaming finally, sobbing and leaning back against James. He pulls me away from my room, taking me from the offending furniture.

"He killed them, James."

"I know."

Weeping, I sit on the couch in the main part of our flat, resting my head on my knees. "Why?"

James doesn't answer. He holds me, and whispers very gently, and I know that I might never know "why."

---

On Christmas morning, several days later, we all meet at Gabi's house. She lives in this cutely cliché little cabin-in-the-woods type thing, and her parents are gone for the week on vacation -- thus, party central. For the moment, James, Gabi, Sara, Anthony, and I are all sitting on the floor near their huge Christmas tree, each with several presents unwrapped already, and still more to give.

To me.

Okay, I guess birthdays aren't all bad.

After all the presents are done, we simply laze around the tree, everyone keeping up a normal conversation. I listen to what they say half-heartedly, not joining in. I haven't been much of a social creature for the last week.

"and Danae and I are going to San Francisco this weekend while the delivery persons drop off some, ah, new furniture," I catch James say, and can't help but smile. "You're all, of course, invited."

"I'm game," Gabi says with a shrug.

Anthony nods, then checks his watch. "Anyone want to go out for breakfast?"

"Sure--" I begin.

"Wait," James says suddenly. "There's one more thing." He disappears out the door.

I roll my eyes. "Great. Mister forgetful is on the loose."

"Be nice, Danae," Gabi says. Sara laughs.

James re-appears very shortly, a box in his hands. He hands it to me, and I look at him suspiciously when it moves. "I don't want a bomb for my birthday," I say.

"Open it," he says impatiently.

Sighing, I open the top -- and a tabby kitten stands up, looking at me oddly. "Mrow?"

"James!" I cry, letting the kitten out of the box. It meows loudly, climbing on me to get a good look.

"No, not James, I've been calling him Perseus. Hope you don't mind," James said, sitting back on the ground.

"How cute!" Gabi says, holding out her hands for Perseus. He sniffs her, and begins batting at Anthony's leg. Anthony sneers at him. I guess he hates cats.

"I thought you were allergic," I say, throwing myself at James and hugging him tightly.

"There are some -- ack, let go -- brilliant new medications out there that can fix that," he says, but I don't let go. James pries my arms off, setting me back. I smile weakly at him.

Perseus pounces my shoe, growling and mewling. I begin laughing, taking the attack opportunity to stroke his back. He's incredibly soft, and I melt inside.

"Are you okay, Danae?" Gabi whispers in my ear, watching Perseus.

"No," I say, then pause thoughtfully. "But I will be."

---

_"I cannot die in my dreams, for I am already dead untouchable." The girl, so pale, so frail, held her hand out. Her fingers pointed to the ground, palm out, arms straight. Cuts, shockingly red against white skin, drip slowly towards the earth._

_"You're in pain." It's a revelation, shocking._

_"Always." The girl walks forward, pulling the Other's hand to hers. The Other's palm begins to bleed as the girl's fingers tighten, nails digging into the backs of the Other's hand. "Aren't you?"_

_The Other nods, pulling back. The cuts are now mirrored on the Other's palm. "Forever."_

_The girl looks sad, placing her hand gently over the Other's chest. "Pain heals."_

_"Not this kind," the Other says, beginning to cry. Streaks of red stream down her cheeks, and the girl embraces her._

_"It will. I promise." She turns up the Other's hands. "These, to you, are my gifts. Use them well."_

---


	5. Dead as Dead Gets

**Danae: Vampire Slayer  
Series One, Episode Nine  
Dead As Dead Gets  
By Head Staff Writer RainTiger**

---

  
The full moon hung low in the sky that night, twinkling stars spread across a bare sky. In the distance, up the mountain, many yellow lights were dotted along where Bryony and Clairvaux straddled the highway, but it was all silent, muffled by the thick layers of snow. Even from the beach, lights from Christmas (already two weeks past) were apparent. Distant howls heralded a pack of beasts, but no one was out to tell if they were cries of the wolf or coyote.

Beyond the buoys, away from the island, the moon reflected on the swaying surface of the water. The light came from under as well as above, a sudden red glow, and the lake began to bubble slightly.

The light flashed, and the water exploded upward, a tall pillar of crashing waves, and then everything silenced again, ripples slowly receding.

The light went out, and a cloud that hadn't been there before passed over the moon, rumbles filling the quiet sky. The clouds slowly spread across the entire sky, blotting out the stars. Rain began pattering down in cold sheets, pitting the snow. Lighting flashed across the sky.

In the darkness, seven shadowed forms rose out of the water, gliding slowly towards the shore

---

Danae flung open the window, throwing her head out and letting the rain streak through her hair. She looked up at the clouds, smiling. "You know, if it keeps this up, all the snow will melt and we'll flood and have to miss lots of school."

"I know how that would just break your heart," James said dryly, dragging a large black case out of the closet. "Come back inside, now. We're training."

"Aren't we always?" Danae asked, obeying. She let the window stay open so she could hear the pattering, turning to face James in the gray-blue light. He knelt by the case, flipping the latches. "If there are Stonehenge-y crystals in there, I'm leaving."

"That's not what we're doing today," he said, opening the lid. Inside, there were several soft layers of foam, and black and deep blue crystals. There was a large octagonal one with sloped sides, and many medium pentagons.

"Pretty," Danae said, bending to run her fingers over the largest. A brief image flashed in her mind, but it disappeared before she could make sense of it.

"We're going to use these to help you focus, and maybe get you to achieve things you've never done before," James explained, lifting one out and handing it to her. "Start putting these in a circle with arm-length spaces between them. Have the biggest in the middle on the pedestal."

Danae sighed, beginning to arrange them. "I love the rain."

"I know."

"There are some bad memories I have of when its raining, but I still love it anyway," she continued, checking to see if the crystals were done properly. "I've been getting my memories back at night, now. Or I'll be at the grocery store, weighing bananas, and I'll just suddenly recall something from the market in India."

His eyes softened, and he ran his hand through his hair, but didn't comment, just handed her another two crystals. Danae set them, frowning for a moment. "Plus, my dreams are getting more prophetic. I dreamt the other night that we were having a test in Science, and I didn't study, and then today we had a pop quiz I'm pretty sure I failed."

"That's probably a stress dream," James said, amused, finishing the circle and standing.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Get in the circle," he said patiently, stepping over a crystal. James held his hand out, palm flat. He waited until Danae joined him, and he said something she didn't catch -- although it sounded somewhat Latin-ish. The ring glowed silver. "I used to practice with this while I still went to the academy."

"That was so long ago, too," Danae said.

He continued as if he didn't hear her. "I obtained the materials from a fellow schoolmate, Hannah Pritchard, who was half-Irish and had had them passed through her mother's side. Certain Druidic covens used these to enhance concentration and allow some fairly impressive things."

"Why did she give them to you?" Danae asked curiously.

In the soft light, it almost looked like he blushed -- James doesn't blush, Danae reminded herself. "She had little magical aptitude, and thought I could better use them. I-in any case, I think we can use these for you to finally achieve balance. Balance has always been your weakness."

Giving him a funny look, she stood on one foot. "My balance is fine."

"Not like that, and you know it. Sit," he ordered. Danae sighed, settling on the floor across from him, the pedestal between them. "You technically can't use the circle on your own because you can't use magic, but --"

"With your help I can, I know," Danae yawned, reaching around to grab his hands. "Work your mojo."

James supressed his irritation, letting his magic loose a little hard "on accident". It hit her with a shock, and her eyes widened, the tingling filling her to her extremities with a little pain. Taking several deep breaths, she glared at him. "You did that on purpose."

"Oops," he said innocently.

Sneering, she opened her mouth to say something else --

Seven black forms rose from the water, drifting towards the shore, gliding as though their feet didn't touch the ground. Swords nearly as tall as they were held at their sides, and the lanky figures were draped in burial shrouds and fog.

Dropping James' hands, the vision disappeared, and the center crystal stopped glowing. "What did you see?" he asked.

Danae pressed a hand to her forehead. "Demons, bad ones. Do you have a book on the demons of the Hell dimension under Tahoe?"

"Possibly," he said with a shrug. "I haven't looked through all of my books yet, and I might have one. Before we do that, why don't we--"

"Let's just go look these up," Danae said, standing again. She didn't want any more visions, nor any of the inevitable memories she'd get if she stayed there. "I want to research before I forget what they look like," she lied.

James shrugged, going to the bookshelf full of books he hadn't read through yet and stepping carefully over the crystals. The rain outside increased, a lightning bolt flashing. Moments later, a slow rumbling rolled past. Danae peeked around her Watcher at the shelves. He muttered the titles to himself as he read them, then stopped on one.

"There are thirteen main hell dimensions," he explained. "One of them has a portal under Tahoe, and the demons that emerge are generally attracted to Sand Harbor."

"Inconvenient during the beach season," Danae commented.

"Very. Our dimension is called Sukan-Ret, a very ugly place that's essentially a place to spawn demon-human hybrids," James continued, flipping open the book, the ruffling through until he got to the chapter on Sukan-Ret. "Stop me if you see something familiar. It's run by this fellow here," James said, pointing at an etching of a very fat, horned demon, "but he's obviously too large to be much of a threat. It used to be overseen by Nü Küa, but she got fed up with it after a while and left. That was about 500 B.C. She went off to her home somewhere in Asia and disappeared for some time. Sukan-Ret is protected by the seven Hell's Sentinels, very nasty guardians that--"

"Wait," Danae said, looking closer at the picture. "That's what I saw. The Hell's Sentinels."

James sighed heavily. "Of course. You couldn't have seen Calceus demons (which spend a lot of time in the nursery for harmless demons)."

"I would have recognized them if they were Calceus demons. Are the Sentinels bad news or something?"

"That means you're perceived as a threat to the dimension," James said, reading the pages on the Sentinels quickly and putting the book back. "Fifty years ago, when there was another Slayer in the area, she began trying to destroy the dimension. She actually got inside, battling and winning against the Guardians of the Gate, and working through the ranks. She was trying to get rid of the nursery by the time the Sentinels got to her."

"How do you kill a Sentinel?" Danae asked. The thunder murmured again outside, wind shifting to let the rain in through the windows. She crossed over, leaning out to shut them. The sound of rain and thunder muted, but the flashing light was still visible, throwing James' face in sharp relief.

"Their power source is in the solar plexus, and generally, a spear through that area will kill them. The problem is getting close enough." James leaned against the wall, arms folded. "They have the ability to emit shockwaves with a radius of fifteen meters, completely destroying anything within range. They'll only do this when other Sentinels aren't around; the shockwave would kill them. If you get close enough, they have swords about as tall as you are that are sharp enough to cut through stone. You see the futility in fighting them."

"Any other methods?" Danae said hopefully, standing in front of him and looking up.

"The light of dawn, but with this storm" He shrugged. As if to punctuate this point, a particularly sharp crack of thunder went off above their heads, and the lights all went out. They were only lit by the gray-blue glow from outside.

"I'm screwed," she said grimly.

"You may not have to fight them yet," James said helpfully. "Visions aren't time-specific. It could be any time from tomorrow to a year from tomorrow."

Sighing, Danae turned to the circle. "Let's clean up this magical mess we've made and worry about it later."

---

James' eyes widened in shock, mouth opening slightly. Blood spilled over his lip, and he stumbled back, holding his side. The light flashed, but his eyes didn't close against the brightness.

Red trickled through his fingers where they clutched at his torso, and he fell back, sliding down the wall. A blood streak was left in his wake, and he toppled to the side, eyes gaping--

An explosion of thunder snapped Danae awake, deafening her. Her sheets were tangled about her legs, heart pounding. James! she thought, looking around wildly. She scrubbed at her cheeks, wiping off the tears.

Peeling off her sheets, she threw her legs over the side of her bed, holding a hand to her heart to feel it through her chest. It beat wildly, but began to slow.

Standing, she looked out the window, holding back the curtains. It was still storming, the town lights out as well. The power had gone out all over the place, but the wind that had blown trees into power lines was gone, leaving only darkness.

Slipping out her door, she glanced down at the closed door leading to James' room. He was in there, probably sleeping, and not dead. Danae meant to turn and go towards the living room, but instead turned to his room. She opened the door quietly, peeking in.

He was laying still, on his back. One hand was over his eyes, as though to block out the lightning, and his chest rose and fell rhythmically.

Danae was about to leave when James suddenly said, "Is something wrong, Danae?"

"I thought you were asleep," Danae said, embarrassed. "Sorry, I'll go."

He uncovered his eyes, raising his head to look at her. "That's all right. Come in."

Stepping in, she closed the door behind her. "I just had a bad dream, is all," Danae explained as James sat up against the headboard. He was wearing his backup pajamas -- a gray tee-shirt and boxers -- because his normal night wear was in the washer, but he looked as composed (except for his mussed hair) as someone sitting in a suit behind a desk did. "It's not a big." Realizing there were still tears on her cheeks, she wiped them off again, but they were only replaced as she thought of James' staring eyes.

"What was it about?" he asked gently.

"You uh got hurt," Danae said lamely. "Really badly. You d-died, and I f-felt all alone..."

James sighed, patting the bed beside him. She came over, sitting at his side and resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist. "Was it a prophetic dream?"

"I d-don't know," she said, clutching at his shirt. "It felt so real"

"It was probably only a dream," James said warmly. "A stress dream. You're still thinking about when your parents died, aren't you?"

"Yes," she whispered.

He yawned, resting his cheek against her head. "That's all it was. Don't worry."

The yawn was contagious, and she curled her legs up to her chest. Her eyes closed slowly, but she still remained awake, feeling his heart beating. "What would I do without you?" she asked, but James didn't reply. He was probably asleep.

She soon followed.

---

"Wake up," a girl's voice said softly, shaking Danae's arm. "Danae, James, get up."

Opening her eyes, Danae saw Gabi's face right up against hers, looking amused. Danae was confused, at first -- it was still dark and raining, but the room didn't look right. Remembering suddenly that she was in James' room, her mind registered the arm around her torso and the head on her shoulder.

"Eep," Danae said, James beginning to stir at her back. Removing his arm carefully, Danae climbed out of bed.

Gabi sat back on her heels, stifling a giggle. Danae blushed, grabbing Gabi by the wrist and pulling her up to stand. "What time is it?" Danae asked.

"It's only four thirty, but its important. Demons are converging on the town from, like, seven directions or something," Gabi said. "Anthony was going for a night drive, just to look around, and he counted a bunch of these scary tall things coming near." She handed Danae a folded paper. "He bought a map at the 7-11 and marked where he saw them. Thought you'd be interested."

James stood behind Danae, looking over her shoulder as she unfolded it. There were, indeed, seven black dots -- all around the town. "He said they're moving slowly in," Gabi finished. She glanced at James and covered her mouth, trying to hide her smile.

"'Scary tall things?'" Danae echoed hollowly. "As in tall, black, draped in fluttering cloth kind of thing?"

Gabi nodded silently. Danae turned and looked up at James. "Get ready. We have to do this."

"Can you?" he asked.

"No choice," she said with a shrug. "Gabi, come with me."

Danae left the room, and could hear Gabi following. It was still dark in the house, but there was enough of a dark blue glow to see. She opened her door, let Gabi in, and shut it. Immediately, her best friend began laughing. "Why were you guys--"

"It's nothing naughty," Danae mumbled, covering her face. "I had a bad dream."

The girl wisely didn't pursue the matter, sitting on her bed while Danae dressed. She slid on a pair of tight black trousers while beginning to ask questions. "Did you see them? Has anyone been hurt? How fast are they moving? Do they have any other kinds of demons with them?"

Gabi answered best she could. "No, I didn't see them, and I don't think anyone's hurt. They're moving pretty slow, and they're alone, as far as I know."

Nodding, Danae slid a white boob tube on and her favorite leather duster, quickly doing her hair in two pigtails. Putting her feet into tall, thick-heeled boots, she paused, touching her mother's cross at her neck. "Gabi?" Danae said, biting her lower lip.

"What?" Gabi asked, cocking her head.

"Do you ever dream things and have them come true?" the Slayer asked, warming the metal in her hand.

"Occasionally, but most of the time, dreams are dreams. Isn't everyone like that?"

"I guess. Let's go," Danae said, exiting into the living room. James was already dressed, and had a couple silver spears in his hands, examining them. "Do you have every kind of weapon imaginable?"

"Only some," he replied. "I do have a weapons expert brother, and books aren't the only things he sends." James tossed Danae one, and she turned it over in her hands.

"I've never trained with a spear before, you realize."

"I know. I have faith in you."

"Anthony's waiting outside," Gabi said, touching Danae's shoulder. The Slayer nodded, twirling the spear once, and opening the door leading to the stairs. She paused.

"James"

"Yes?"

"Nothing." Shaking her head, she walked down and out the front door, where it was brighter. Immediately, she saw Anthony's car in the street, and wiped the rain out of her eyes, opening the passenger side door.

"Need a ride?" Anthony asked.

"I'd love a ride," she said. Getting in, she shut the door, and instantly the drumming on the windshield sounded louder. Danae turned to him, holding out the map. "Is the map true?"

He nodded, and Danae sighed. "Okay."

James and Gabi climbed in behind Anthony and Danae, the new passengers immediately putting their seat belts on. Anthony pulled out into the street. "I'm going to take you to where I last saw the nearest one," he explained, driving quickly down the empty road, turning on his windshield wipers as fast as they could go.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," Danae said, then turned in her seat so she could see everyone. "We're going to split into teams and take the seven separately. James, you'll go with Anthony. I know you can protect him." Anthony made an indignant sound. "Sorry. Anthony, you can protect James."

"That's better," Anthony said with a smile.

"Gabi, you're with me." Unfolding the map again, Danae pointed at each dot, counting off numbers. "James, take the first three. I'll take four, five, and six, and we'll meet at seven."

Anthony stopped the car. He pointed out the front, and Danae followed his gaze. "Bloody hell," she whispered.

Nine feet tall, and looking exactly as it had in her vision, a Hell's Sentinel glided slowly down the street, a faceless shadow that examined everything it passed. When it saw the car, it brought its sword slowly forward, holding it up in front of it.

"Drive back," James hissed. "Now!"

Anthony shifted into reverse, pressing his foot flat on the gas. The car shot backwards, but it was too late -- the Sentinel's sword shone bright red, and a massive shockwave shot out of it, ripping up the street and crashing into the buildings. With a roar, the ground rippled, and the shockwave hit the car.

Anthony's ride was thrown back, smashing into a house that's walls crumbled. The car flipped, landing on its roof. Gabi was screaming, and Danae was thrown through the front of the car when it hit something it couldn't crush, sliding several feet.

Everything went black.

---

James groaned. He was hanging from his seat belt in the back seat of Anthony's car, head aching. Looking over at Gabi, he saw she was unconscious and bleeding from a cut in her forehead, but looked otherwise fine. Anthony was shifting, then coughed. "Everyone okay?"

The Watcher looked through the broken windshield to see Danae, crumpled on the ground. "I don't know," James said hoarsely, but as he watched she began to stir. The Slayer rose, holding her ribs.

"Ow," he heard her clearly say. "Stay buckled, everyone. I'm flipping you back over." She came close, stretching carefully.

She grabbed the front of the car, biting her lower lip. Oh-so slowly, one side of the car lifted, and then it sped up and struck the ground hard. Gabi flopped to the side, and James pushed her back carefully. The roof was much lower now, but Danae grabbed the top and peeled it back like a sardine can. The rain started to pour in, and Anthony looked back.

"Is Gabi--"

Danae put her fingers to her friends neck. "She's alive. Good thing she was wearing her seat belt." She snapped the belt, pulling Gabi out. "The Sentinel will still be after me. We're ahem a bit of a distance away, so I think we can find Gabi the remains of a bed."

"And the plan?" Anthony asked.

"It will go ahead," Danae said, "but I'm going to leave Gabi with Sara. She's nearby." Reaching into the remains of the car, she lifted the spears out. "You guys go. Kill quick." Tossing James one awkwardly, Danae shifted Gabi and prepared to run.

---

"Will she be all right?" Sara asked, sounding as concerned as she ever got.

"I think so," Danae said. "She might have a concussion or something, though maybe you should take her to the hospital.

Sara nodded, shifting Gabi on her bed so she looked more comfortable. "I'll call an ambulance. Go fight evil."

'Thank you," Danae said, jogging out of the room, past a curious Mrs. Friedman, and back onto the street.

Looking around warily, Danae wrapped her arms about herself awkwardly, spear in hand. She didn't want to go fight the Sentinels -- but did she have any other choice? With a resolute sigh, she began running. The rain was only getting worse, as cold as the snow that had been covering the ground only a couple days before. It made seeing difficult, too --

WHAM!

She flew several feet, skidding on the pavement. Her head spun, and she shook it to try and clear her vision. Only a few feet up the street, the ground was completely torn apart and it seemed Danae had caught the tail end of one of the Sentinel's shockwaves. It was looking for her.

Suddenly, a Sentinel rounded the corner. It looked down a her, and paused.

Danae held her breath, not moving. It was still too far for its sword, but if it shockwaved --

"Move," she whispered to herself. "Move!"

Danae shot to her feet, turning and running as quickly as she could at the Sentinel. She had to get away from the residential area, and fast.

Bringing her spear up, she flew past the demon. She was faster than that little bastard, she thought, and would have time to get a good head start.

Before she had even gone three steps, she heard it begin to move. And this thing was not moving slow. Looking over her shoulder, Danae's mouth went dry.

It sped after her, shroud blowing behind it and showing off glimpses of a mottled gray face. Danae did the only thing she could think of doing in such a situation -- she panicked.

Stopping, she held her spear over her head and threw herself to the ground. Something heavy pressed against her weapon, and she looked up.

The Sentinel was caught on the end. Danae, surprised, pulled back -- and the demon disappeared, fading away.

She sat still for a moment. "Okay. That was a little weird."

---

Heaving hard with her metal spear, Danae buried her weapon in the lower back of her third Sentinel. So she had snuck up from behind on these last two and killed them before they knew she was there -- so what? It wasn't technically cheating if it was life-or-death.

Much like the first two, the Sentinel dissolved, and Danae was left with nothing more than a face full of rain.

Pulling her cell out of her pocket, Danae leaned on the metal pole while she dialed. James answered almost immediately.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Hey. Killed the first three yet?"

"Yes. It's amazing what a decent levitation spell will do in a pinch."

"Cheater."

"And what did you do?"

"On the last two, snuck up from behind."

"Cheater."

Danae smiled. "Okay, let's meet up at the seventh." She paused, biting her lower lip, then added, "And James? Don't fight until I get there."

He hung up.

Staring at her phone for a moment as though it had suddenly grown legs and eyes, Danae paused, then shut it off.

---

By the time Danae got there, it was already too late. The post office fire could be seen as soon as she got out of the forest, but as she got closer, the fire was put out by the rain. There was no Sentinel in sight, but Anthony was standing with his back to her, staring at something.

"Anthony?" Danae called, but he didn't turn. "Anthony? Where's the Sentinel?"

"It was attacking a family," he said blankly without moving. "James h-had wanted to stay back but h-he couldn't let them die"

The last of the fire went out as Danae reached Anthony's side. "James didn't fight it, did he?' Anthony didn't respond. "He didn't fight it! I told him not to!" Danae insisted. "Where is he?"

Anthony nodded inside the ruins of the building. Danae stepped over one of the broken walls, going inside. Most of the roof was blown off, the walls charred and shortened drastically. Envelopes and paper scraps still fluttered around, so it took Danae a minute to see him.

Sitting against a wall near where the counter used to be was James, his eyes blank and staring. A streak of blood was on the wall above him, and his mouth was open slightly.

She rushed over to him, kneeling. "James?" Danae asked, placing a hand over his bloody chest. "James I told you not to fight it."

He didn't reply.

Covering her face with her hands, Danae began sobbing, bending over her fallen Watcher.

Gabi, with several bandages on her forehead, waked near and saw James. Sara gasped. "Is he--?" she began.

Gabi turned and fled, Sara following.

---

Picking a broken branch off the ground, Gabi heaved it at the front window of the studio, shattering it and reaching in to unlock the door.

"Is that such a good idea?" Sara asked, but Gabi was already inside. The younger girl followed as she darted upstairs, trying to keep up.

Gabi went immediately to James' desk and began throwing papers off the surface, tossing books and parchment to the floor. She began muttering to herself, then cried out when she found what she had been searching for.

The Book of the Dead.

"I hate to be a party pooper," Sara said, "but you are NOT using that! Don't you know--"

"Shut up," Gabi said harshly. She threw open the Book, scanning its pages.

"How do you expect to read it?" Sara asked, then gaped as the hieroglyphs shifted and began running up Gabi's arms.

The blonde girl dropped the Book, shocked, but the hieroglyphs continued their journey up her body until they coalesced on her forehead.

Gabi's mouth opened, and with a rush of pages, something red shot out of her, crashing through one of the windows and disappearing.

She collapsed to the floor.

---

Danae felt Anthony's hand on her shoulder. "The police are here," he whispered. "We have to lea--"

James began coughing, and Danae's hands came off her face instantly. He opened his eyes. "James!" Danae cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Aack-- can't breathe!" he gasped.

"I thought you were dead!" Danae sobbed, but Anthony was persistent.

"Police, must leave," Anthony said, dragging the small Slayer to her feet.

James stood, holding his head. "I have one hell of a headache," he complained.

---

When they all stumbled back to the studio, there was an ambulance in front, loading Gabi on a stretcher in the back of it. Sara smiled at them in greeting. "They're just taking her to the hospital," she said cheerfully.

"But why?" Danae began, then shook her head. "Never mind."

"I'll ride with her," Sara said.

"Me too," Anthony agreed, watching his cousin.

"You two stay," Sara commanded them. "It looks like you need rest something awful."

Danae was too tired to protest. She helped James into the studio, avoiding the paramedics. She didn't want them deciding that James or she herself needed attention. They went upstairs, but if James was surprised to see his desk in such disarray, he didn't comment.

He didn't notice the Book missing.

The clouds parted just slightly outside, and dawn broke through.

---


	6. Finally, Showdown

**Slayer   
Series One, Episode Twelve  
Finally, Showdown, by Head Staff Writer RainTiger**

---

_This is the season finale of Slayer season one, but soon season two will be starting on the website () soon. If you want to read the rest of the episodes that weren't written by me, they're at the site, too. ^^ Enjoy!_

"Nothing will stop me!"

The vampire was off her suddenly, dust covering her face and clothes. James stood above her, lifting her up. "Help!" Gabi choked, another vampire lowering her face to her neck. Danae took James' stake, throwing it at the vamp's back. She dusted.

Anthony struggled, staking his own vampire. Danae watched as Felipe saved Sara, and stopped him before he could go after the last one. The Slayer ran forward, tackling it and holding it down. She held the stake close to its chest.

"Who sent you?" she demanded.

"David Nicholas says goodbye," he spat, then sat up strongly to impale himself.

Wiping off her clothes, Danae stood again, confused. "Does that mean that David Nicholas is out of town again?" she asked.

"I think so," James said, and she sighed in relief.

"Isn't he, like, your big adversary?" Gabi asked, holding her throat.

Danae nodded. "I hope things will be a bit quieter now he's gone."

---

Four Weeks Later

The night was finally clear after such a long rain. The air was cold and clean, and everything was damp, as though freshly cleaned. The grass slurped wetly as Danae walked across the well-kept graveyard, boots sticking slightly and lifting with a pop. She sighed, looking around her and flipping her stake in one hand.

The wind whispered through the tall trees, sounding somewhat like a rushing brook. Other than that, the only sound was the soft breath of the man leaning against a tombstone.

"Slow night," James commented, folding his arms.

"I swear, I can prove it," Danae insisted, tossing the stake to her other hand. She shifted on her feet, impatient.

"I do believe you. This really isn't necessary."

"You don't really believe me, James, and I know it." She crossed over to him, pursing her lips. "Yes, the Book of the Dead has disappeared. Yes, old enemies are returning. You may say that you got the connection, but I somehow doubt you do. So, I'll just prove it."

James leaned forward. "Go ahead. Prove it." That was a dare if Danae ever heard one.

"Fine, then. I will." She swaggered a few feet away, putting on her innocent look. He noticed as she shifted from "predator" mode into "prey" mode. Most vampires would notice the change, too, if they had been watching, but some were dumb enough to fall for it

And indeed, minutes later, a vampire strolled out into view, looking as though he hadn't kept up with the fashion for the past five years. It was a slight fashion difference, but Danae could tell. The tell-tale alarm bells went off in her head, confirming her suspicion that the new person wasn't alive.

Without further ado, Danae launched herself forward. James laughed: she wasn't one for subtlety when it came to fighting. No matter how he tried, he just couldn't get her to grasp the basic premise of "patience." She hadn't changed at all for four years now.

She kicked it twice soundly in the chest, punching and striking before it even realized it was being attacked. When it finally caught up with her, it threw her away from itself, running. The vampire knew he was no match for the Slayer.

Danae, however, wasn't allowing this. She chased after the vamp, and James followed at a much slower pace to keep an eye on them. She was flung against a tree, but being the ever-determined person she was, returned with a good roundhouse of her own.

While it was still off-balance, she sank the stake into its chest, and with a shocked look, the vampire exploded. Danae folded her arms again, beckoning James over. He stood at her side, waiting with her.

The dust cloud the vampire had dissolved into began to form again, taking shape back into what he was only moment ago.

Even though James had half expected this to happen, he took a step back in surprise nonetheless. As soon as he had formed up enough, Danae staked him again, and this time his dust blew away on the wind. She sheathed her stake.

"See? For the past couple weeks, any time I stake anything on patrol, I have to wait around and stake them again." She sounded incredibly annoyed. "It's such a waste of time. At first, it was only a vampire every couple of days that did this, but it's speeding up. The Book's doing something."

"But it's been so quiet lately. After David-Nicholas left again, things became so calm," James said, almost as irritated as Danae. "We haven't even seen any demons since the beginning of May!"

"I bet it's doing this all just to annoy me," she mumbled sulkily. "'Let's make it harder for the Slayer to Slay things! It's going to make patrolling take twice as long, and give her less time to spend with her friends. And if all goes well in my evil, evil plan, she'll die from severe agitation!'"

"That's an excellent evil plan, Danae," James said solemnly.

"Yes, that's definitely the Book's scheme," Danae said, linking arms with James as they continued walking. "How much extra training and/or researching do I have to put in?"

"None," he promised. "Just focusing on studying. Next week's finals week, you know."

"Tell me the world is going to end before then."

"Disregarding the unusual demon activity in Sunnydale (they've always stopped apocalypses every time up to now), I'd say it's a sure thing you'll have to do school next week." Danae leaned on his arm with a groan. "I promise if you pass all your finals, I'll home school you next year."

She smiled. "Really?"

"Cross my heart," James said. "Now go stake hers."

Danae followed his gaze to see a vampire heading towards them. She pulled her stake out of her jacket, separating from her Watcher. "With pleasure."

---

"Okay, negative 'b' plus or minus the square root of 'b' squared minus four times 'a' times 'c'" Danae looked at the equation, drumming her pencil on her desk.

"It's all over two times 'a'," James said.

"Whoever came up with the quadratic formula should die," Danae muttered. "It makes no sense! How do I get 'a', 'b', and 'c' from the original equation?" She picked up her math paper, frowning at it in disgust.

"You're such an idiot," Felipe said with contempt from the corner, where he sat, looking on with disdain.

Danae growled, snapping her book shut. She took a deep breath. "Screw math. James, let's try History."

"You don't need to study History. You know it better than you know your demons. If we aren't studying Math, let's at least cover your Science." He slid the math book away, reaching for her science binder. "Good lord! Are these supposed to be notes? They look like pages of drawings and battle plans. Danae" James sighed heavily.

Danae shifted on her seat uneasily, eyes flicking over to where the bound mage sat. She was expecting a comment at any moment. Indeed, as soon as she looked over, he said, "Jaaaames, she's looking at me. Make her stop."

"I'm going to strangle you with my stylish scarf if you don't shut up," Danae said, and it was no idle threat. Felipe sat back (for the time being).

She leaned back, gazing out the window at the shining afternoon light. The view tantalized her; Danae wanted to go outside and jog, or go to Gabi's and drag her down to the lake for a swim. Instead, she had to be sitting around, studying things that were probably too late to learn, with that stupid little man who had tried to kill her talking endlessly.

"Don't threaten the harmless little ponce," James sighed. He was obviously bored of him too.

"'Harmless little ponce?'" Felipe repeated, outraged.

"Can't you bind his mouth or something?" Danae asked.

"I'm saving my energy," he said apologetically. "Fighting him took a lot out of me. I have all my magic back, yes, but you never know when I'm going to need it."

Danae slumped, banging her head on the table. "Can't Gabi watch him?"

"She doesn't have the strength to protect herself from him. Besides, right now I have him anchored in the studio. I don't feel like moving him."

"You know, I'm here right now. You don't have to talk about me like I'm in another room." Felipe waved at them.

James turned to the book he'd been paying half attention to, returning to reading. Danae and Felipe began bickering, but he tuned them out with practiced ease. The two never shut up. Maybe it would be best to separate them --

He stopped cold, looking closer at the paragraph he'd just read. Standing suddenly, James went to the coat rack, taking his jacket. "Are we going out?" Danae asked hopefully.

"I am going out, you are staying here and baby sitting Felipe. I think I have a lead," James explained, walking down the stairs. "I'll be back in an hour," he called. "Study!"

The door below slammed, and Danae stared at Felipe. "I don't need to be baby sat," he said flatly.

"Believe me, if it was up to me, I'd just kill you," she said, opening her History book. "Now shut up or I'll use dull scissors to remove any chance you have of ever procreating."

"Pleasant girl," he grumbled.

---

Gabi squeezed the bottle of lighter fluid, and the barbecue erupted in a fireball, surrounding the hot dogs. Danae leapt back from the fire, but it shortly shrank again. "Cool," Gabi giggled, and Danae poked the dogs with a fork.

"You're such a pyromaniac, Gabi," Danae laughed, looking around at the supplies on the picnic table. "Ooh, sour cream and cheddar chips." She grabbed the giant bag, opening it and munching.

"Share," Gabi commanded, keeping an eye on the barbecue as they ate.

"James! Want to join us?" Danae called to the man, who was lounging on a blanket several feet away in the sun.

"That's all right, I'll let you do all the work," he returned, laying back with his hands behind his head. Danae smiled fondly at him, watching how the sun shone in his hair. She never understood how he didn't get burned; he was wearing a muscle tee and no sun block, and when he fell asleep, he'd always come back un-burned.

"Stop ogling the Watcher," Gabi said playfully.

"I am not ogling!" Danae protested, laughing. She shifted the hot dogs to make sure they cooked evenly.

"You are so ogling," Gabi teased, sitting at the table to wait.

"Yes, I am. James and I are secretly shagging behind everyone's backs, and I'm staring right now because I'm carrying his child but don't know how to tell him," Danae joked.

After a long pause, Gabi said, "Really?" as though she actually believed her.

"Hell no," Danae laughed, throwing a chip at Gabi.

"Anyway, I hear James got a lead yesterday. Anything good?"

"Nothing. He misread his Greek." Danae rolled her eyes, glancing over at the barbecue, then reaching for the paper plates. She moved the dogs onto the plate, then handed it over to Gabi.

"Guess that means I'm bun girl, huh?" Gabi asked, putting the now-cooked (and very slightly burned) hot dogs into their buns, and with a quick efficiency, put all the right toppings on each one.

"Your buns are better than the Slayer's, if a bit large," Felipe said, appearing from nowhere and stealing Danae's customized hot dog. He pointedly took a huge bite out of the end, watching Danae as he did it.

She stared at him incredulously while he downed her entire dog, and as he (with quite a bit of satisfaction), licked his fingers. "A little overcooked."

Her eyes flared, and she punched him in the stomach (and without the affection she had for most of her victims), and marched out into the sun. Gabi giggled from behind her, and Felipe muttered, "Shut up."

Throwing herself onto the blanket James was reclining on, Danae waited until he finished talking to whoever he was talking to on his cell before speaking. "I'm going to kill Felipe, James. He ate my special hot dog."

"I'm sorry, Danae, but I have to go to England," James said, standing and pulling Danae back to her feet with him. "The Council says they have news pertaining to why you were Called, but it shouldn't take long. I'll likely be back tomorrow or the day after."

"Take Felipe," she said desperately as they walked under the shade of the tree Gabi and the bound mage were.

"You two are secretly shagging behind your backs and you don't know how to tell your Watcher you're carrying his child?" Felipe asked, surprised. Gabi looked guilty, and James turned to Danae, more than a little puzzled.

"That's news to me," James said.

"Last time I joke with Gabi," Danae grumbled under her breath. Louder, she said, "Fine, go to England. At least give Felipe to Gabi. I'm sick of him, and they're seeming to get along okay."

"I told you, I don't have the time to move him," James sighed, taking the plate Gabi offered. "I'll be back in a day or two, I promise. And no killing Felipe while I'm gone."

"Just take all the fun out of everything."

---

"She kills them," a quiet voice said. "She ruins them. My work." The voice crackled slightly as it spoke calmly, and it sounded very distant, as though it came from the bottom of a well.

"We will kill the Slayer," promised a female vampire, wearing black leather and with her bright red hair pulled back. Her companions nodded, all of them female and clad similarly. It almost looked like they were soldiers, with the organization of an army.

"You will not. She is too strong," it whispered. It slunk out of its hiding place, draped in darkness so that its followers could not see it. "I will raise more, many at once. And then you shall bring her to me."

It crossed to the outside, looking upon the graveyard. What could have passed for its head tilted to the side, and it raised its arms. Soundlessly, several images rose from its body, burning in the sky brightly and causing the graves to dance with silver flames.

[insert graphic]

The symbols, as though ripped from a page, sank slowly into the earth. All was still for a moment, and then the ground itself began to glow. Dirt erupted, tombstones and coffins shattered, and slowly the dead began to rise from the ground.

"They will kill her."

---

It was clouded over, and it rained very lightly on the park, but Quentin Travers still sat outside. He was on a bench under the shelter of a tree, watching everything around him silently when James approached. He didn't acknowledge him at first, and so the younger Watcher simply stood in the rain, waiting.

"James, it's good to see you," Quentin said, still not looking at him, "especially after you last left on such unpleasant terms."

"Torture and unnecessary psychological batteries are mistakes anyone can make," James said dryly.

Travers laughed, gesturing to the empty seat next to him. "Please, sit. I don't suppose you've heard from Alexander recently?'

James moved over, sitting. "Just last week, Alex sent me a charm from the Himalayas, and a letter about a temple."

"We've been sending notices to all his usual 'haunts,' but we haven't gotten any replies. Does he answer when you write him?" Travers asked, folding his hands.

"As long as I don't mention returning home," James replied, looking up through the branches of the tree with a thoughtful look. "Do you still want him to replace me as Danae's Watcher?"

Quentin didn't answer for a while. "James, it isn't healthy for a Watcher to get too attached to his or her Slayer. Of course, there is a certain level of respect and whatnot, but when too strong a bond is formed, we often relocate both people." James looked alarmed, but Travers shook his head. "We're not replacing you. It hasn't hindered you or your work. However, once we do receive word from your twin, we will be sending him over as her primary Watcher. We have no plans of firing or moving you. You'll still have contact, but Alexander will handle the paperwork. You understand, of course."

"What else do you have to say?" James asked tightly, trying to be patient. "Do you know anything about why Danae was Called?"

The older man took his time, turning to face James, but still watching just beyond him in the park. "Odd things have been happening lately. In Sunnydale, the true Slayer has a hell god to fight. Imagine that, fighting a hell god! In Cleveland, we have a small group of Potentials trying to keep the public from learning about vampires, and in Bryony, the Book of the Dead itself. No, we don't know why Miss Gray was Called."

James sighed heavily, closing his eyes. "In that case, I must return. As you know, things are rather hectic back home right now."

"Yes, yes, but before you go, there's something you might want to know," Travers said. "And it does indeed affect you and your charge"

---

Sara liked to wander around the school after all the students had left. It didn't take long for the entire area to empty except for the teachers; no one wanted to linger longer than they had to. It was a good place to just think quietly, and look around without anyone disturbing her.

Two days ago, it had still been weekend and not finals week, and James had left for England. Something having to do with Danae, as usual. In addition, Anthony was with his Grandma in Florida, and things had been awfully calm for a while.

Danae had spent any non-school time at the studio with Felipe, and Sara had tried hanging out with her, but the mage was being awfully obnoxious. It was as though the attractive boy was trying to make up for his lack of magic by being evil in annoying Danae. The Slayer kept throwing things, and Felipe kept eyeing Sara, so she'd left.

Gabi was boring. She had been studying constantly, and didn't want to take time to go do anything. All of Sara's other friends had become even more frightfully dull ever since she learned of this entire new world with demons and vampires, and just couldn't carry on a conversation with them.

So a lot of her time was spent here. Here, walking in the empty halls, just thinking and looking.

She'd just finished up doing a final for French, and was walking about. She had a pretty good feeling that she had failed -- Sara could really only remember how to say "rabbit," so all of her answers were related to that. "What is your favorite food?" the paper would ask in French. Rabbit, of course. "What was your first pet?" Rabbit. "What is your hobby?" Raising rabbits.

Sara wandered outside, gazing up at the clouds and the bright sky. Turning around, she saw Anthony coming up the path. He must be on his way to get makeup papers, Sara thought, waving at him.

He waved back -- then began gesturing emphatically behind her. Sara turned around, confused, and then suddenly everything went black. Ouch, she thought before she became unconscious.

---

He leaned back, smiling darkly. "I came for you, actually, but they were in the way. They knew I was coming. It's one of the reasons your pathetic little demon-hunting parents were on the run. Actually, they'd made many enemies along the way I was just one of them."

"Where are they?" she demanded, voice loud.

"I--"

"Where are they?!"

Francis drew himself up. "So. This is your fatal flaw. I had hoped you'd be the one."

He slammed her against the wall, and she didn't even see him go from a meter away to right against her. His forehead cracked against hers, her head hitting the wall. His eyes glowed darkly, and she tried to draw away -- he struck her in the abdomen, throwing her to the floor.

Rolling away quickly, she clambered under a table on all fours. The Francis monster grabbed the side of the table, throwing it to the side, and it shattered against the floor. Gasping, she slid around to the other side of another one of the coffins.

She spun, grabbing the handle and pulling with all her strength --

She ran inside, forgetting to close the door. The room was long, and a dead end, but she could hear Francis' roar behind her and had no choice but to run.  
  
The end of the room rushed towards her, and she saw a large bronze-colored plaque on the wall. That was it. She ran into it, palms flat against the metal, searching for anything.

Her hands began to burn, palms itching and warming. Pulling away quickly, she fell against the ground, flush on her back. The burning continued, and she clenched her hands into fists. Her eyes were drawn up to the plaque -- lit by a single glowing torch. A massive ornate cross adorned it, softly shining a light gold. "Holy mother," she whispered, looking at her hands. The cross was on them.

Danae sat up quickly, gasping. The darkness of the room met her, and she panted, trying to gain her bearings. She was just in her bedroom, in a normal (non-four poster) bed, with a wardrobe and a round mirror. That was all.

Through the moonlight, she could see her vague reflection. Groaning, she rolled over and looked at the time.

With bright red numbers, her clock said 1:20.

Groaning again, Danae laid back, looking up at her roof. "I want to sleep," she moaned, closing her eyes.

Francis looked back at her.

Grumbling, Danae popped her eyes back open and threw her covers aside. Scrubbing her face, she threw on her robe, stumbling out into the hall. It was just as dark out in the hall as it was in her room, but in the main area, the moon had the entire room tinted blue. Felipe snored slightly. He was such a deep sleeper, she had to kick him awake in the mornings.

Not like she minded.

Shuffling over to the refrigerator, Danae threw open the door and stared in. Fumbling for a yogurt, she snatched a spoon and flopped at the table.

"Can't sleep?" a masculine voice asked.

Looking up, she saw a very hassled looking Watcher looking down at her. "James!" she cried, standing and throwing her arms around him. He returned the hug, smiling at her.

"I've been away so long," he said.

"What's the news?" Danae asked, leaning back to look at him.

Ruffling her already sleep-tousled hair, he said, "They still don't know why you were Called."

Making a disgusted sound, she pulled away and sat again. Swallowing a mouthful of strawberry yogurt, Danae said, "And they made you go all the way there just to hear that?"

"Yes. They're horribly predictable, aren't they?" he said, taking off his coat and laying in on a chair before sitting. "That's not all. Travers also gave me the usual, 'Get your brother here, we need to have a talk with him.'"

"And what else?" she asked, scraping the bottom of the little bowl. His voice hinted there was more.

"Don't tell the kittens," Felipe mumbled from the couch.

James sighed heavily. "I don't know what I'm going to do with him, honestly. He's off his magic high, and I thought he would be more of a white hat by now, but he's still unpredictable."

"And annoying. You're hedging, James. It can't be that bad."

"They told me another Potential was Called, Danae. Someone named Chanterelle."

Danae stared at him, eyes wide. She leaned forward on the table, puzzled. "What does that mean? Another another Called? I haven't died, the other Slayer hasn't died, as far as I know--"

The door downstairs slammed, and Anthony called, "Danae! Danae, are you up?"

Rolling her eyes, she stood, calling down, "Yes, come upstairs." Felipe snorted, rolling over. Anthony ran up, hair a mess and clothes dirty. "What's wrong?" Danae asked, alarmed. She went over to him, looking at the cuts on his face.

"T-today, after school, I came back from Florida," Anthony panted, as though he'd been running for several hours. "I dropped by the school to get makeup papers, and I saw Sara there. She was k-kidnapped by d-demons."

"What took you so long?" James asked sharply, standing. Felipe stirred again, sounding like he was waking up.

"I f-followed them. They took a pretty e-erratic course, like they were scared of something, but they took her to the cemetery in Clairvaux," Anthony explained, and Danae allowed him to lean on her. "I came back as fast as I could, but I was pretty worn."

Danae sat him at the table, then took off her robe. "James, weapons."

"Are you going now?" her Watcher asked, worried.

"I can't let them have Sara. Who knows what they'll do to her, what they might have already done?" Danae said, walking over to the extra wardrobe they had there. She began pulling out clothes -- leather trousers, deep gold shirt -- and turned back to them. "Waiting has gotten people killed before, at my feet. You guys stay here. I think I think this is the big fight."

She ducked behind a changing screen so James couldn't follow. "What do you mean, 'the big fight?'" he asked, beginning to sound upset.

Felipe sat up suddenly, awake. Danae pulled off her tank top and shorts, throwing them on the top of the screen. "Slayers have their big fights. I guess this is mine."

"Are you implying" Anthony began, Danae's meaning slowly forming in his head. "No. No, you're not going alone, and you're not going to die."

"He's right," James said, beginning to pace.

"Most Slayers have short lives," Danae said, and she didn't sound disturbed by the prospect at all. She came from behind the screen, dressed. She tied her hair back, and James got in her way of grabbing weapons.

"You won't," he said with incredible intensity. "You're not really-- you-- you'll make it. And I'm coming."

She shoved him aside, taking her duffel. "No. James, give me the keys to the Boxster."

"You're not going to hurt the Porsche, are you?" Anthony asked, scandalized, at the same time the Watcher said, "You only have your learner's permit!"

Rolling her eyes, Danae took the keys out of his jacket. "Sit," she ordered him. James complied, looking annoyed that he had. "Stay. Good boy." She paused, biting her lower lip. "I'll come back. I promise." Danae kissed James on the cheek, and then ran down the stairs and out the door.

---

"Slow down, you're moving too fast," Sara sang under her breath, off-key. "You gotta make the moment last--"

"Shut the hell up!" the vampire yelled. The Book definitely owed her -- the stupid little hostage hadn't shut up for the past three hours.

Sara paused, shifting a little. The chains on her wrists hurt a bit, and it was uncomfortable sitting with her arms up above her head in the way that they were, but there wasn't much she could do about it. She thought for a minute.

"Last dance! Last chance for love," she sang.

"If you don't shut up, I'll mutilate your body and piss on your remains," the vampire woman threatened.

Sara considered this, tilting her head. "I need you by me, beside me to guide me," she continued to sing.

---

Danae pushed the tree branch aside, looking in at the cemetery. There was an expanse of grass surrounding a large stone building, squat but with some delicate statues. There was no movement from the area around the graves, but by each tombstone, the ground had exploded, and there were several large ditches.

But no living dead.

Glancing back at where she had parked the Porsche (unevenly, but she was still learning), she knelt and opened her duffel bag. Putting the sword sheath on her back, and concealing several daggers in her clothes, Danae put a bunch of stakes on the special belt she had had made long ago. As an afterthought, she added another sword (smaller, but still sharp). Grabbing her one-handed crossbow and some bolts, she walked out from the cover of the trees.

Nothing.

Looking around suspiciously, she opened her extra sense of detection -- dead, all around her.

The attack came from all sides at once. Bodies in different states of decay hurtled at her from out of the forest and behind the mausoleum, and she whipped up her crossbow quickly. Aiming, she shot a bolt at a dead and struck it square in the chest. It fell back, dead again.

Danae reloaded quickly and shot again, but missed. There was no time left, and the dozen dead had reached her. Dropping the crossbow, she drew her sword and twirled, slashing. She decapitated two at once, kicking the bodies away. Her arm was grabbed by a moldy, half-skeletal woman, and Danae head butted her back.

Kicking an old man, she jumped back away from all of the dead, slicing one in the stomach. It fell, but she didn't wait to see if she'd killed it (again), turning to a clump of enemies. "What I wouldn't give for a flame thrower right now," Danae muttered, drawing the second sword.

Flipping over one, she sliced it in the back while decapitating one with the left hand sword. Danae was starting to feel good, muscles fresh and only a little strained, breath still coming easily, when a woman got a shot in, shallow-kicking the fist holding her broadsword.

Danae dropped it, and the sharp pain in her hand told her that her two middle fingers were probably broken. Wincing, she brought her other sword forward, impaling her attacker in the heart. When the dead didn't drop, she realized it was a vampire.

"Shit," she whispered, bringing her arm back to try and behead the vamp -- but the dark woman caught the sword, throwing it to the side and grabbing Danae by the throat, pressing her nails in. Danae could feel the pressure on her windpipe slowly increasing, and clenched her good fist, drawing her legs up to her chest and kicking the vampire.

Unhooking one of her many stakes, she landed on the vamp and brought the wood down quickly. She fell to the ground as it dusted, and instantly rolled over.

One of the bodies attacked her, dropping down, but Danae had her legs up to meet it. She kicked it back, jumping up and looking at how many were left -- three. "I can do three more," Danae said, trying to convince herself.

Her vision spun, and the iron tang of blood filled her mouth. The vampire that had punched her pulled back, ready to strike again, but Danae ducked low, grabbing the vamp's legs and throwing her down to give her a moment to stake her.

Danae rolled back. Two left.

The sky burned suddenly, bright silver-blue symbols appearing above Danae in the stars. Puzzled, she looked up -- luckily, the dead looked up too, just as curious. The symbols looked like Egyptian hieroglyphs, then began to rain on untouched graves.

The Book, she thought with a chill.

Instantly, the ground began erupting again. One exploded under her feet, and Danae was thrown to the side. She kept moving even after she should have hit the ground and stopped, flying all the way back to the line of trees.

Danae stumbled into someone, and then pulled back to see who was there, cradling her arm.

James, Gabi, Anthony, and Felipe. She groaned. "I told you guys to stay home," Danae said.

Ignoring her comment, James dropped his hands. "You're welcome."

"That was pretty incredible!" Gabi said, and Danae shrugged, looking back towards the open area. The newly-risen dead had disappeared, and things looked quiet, like they had before. Even the things Danae had killed were missing, but her crossbow and swords still lay there.

"James pulled you all the way over here," Anthony said. "Very impressive magic for a dance teacher."

Felipe sulked.

"Listen, the Book of the Dead is in that mausoleum, and it has Sara," Danae explained quickly. "I need to get in there and get her."

"We conjured a present for you -- well, James conjured a present for you while the rest of us watched in gaping-fish manner," Gabi said, pulling a small box out of her pocket. "See, the Book can only be closed again with fire, and lots of it. James said he knew you'd love a flame thrower--"

"He knows me too well," Danae commented.

"--but he said that you had to leave yours in Europe because you couldn't get it through the airport," the girl continued. "So instead he made this cute little box. You open it, and poof, big fireball. It's a single-use. Sorry."

"Shiny," Danae said with a nostalgic smile. She missed her old flame thrower. Taking the box, she put it in her only empty pocket.

"Are you up to fighting the Book?" Anthony asked worriedly. "There were a lot of dead things out there."

"Of course, I'm fine," the Slayer lied. Her fingers were broken, she'd gotten a few teeth knocked loose, she'd pulled several muscles, and all she still wanted to do was sleep.

James sighed, taking her good arm. He closed her hand in his, then closed his eyes, muttering under his breath. She wasn't sure at first if it was a spell, or if he was just annoyed, but shortly silver fire snaked up her arm, leaving her feeling warm. Danae could actually feel the bones popping back in place, and the muscles being returned to normal.

It wasn't the most pleasant feeling.

A more familiar rejuvenation spell followed, and she popped completely awake. "Wow," Danae said.

"Any time," James said, yawning. "I hope you don't expect any more magic out of me tonight, though. The little flame box took a lot of magic."

"I still have more than enough," Felipe said.

"Not caring. Okay, you guys stay here. I'm making a break for the mausoleum, and if I'm not back in twenty minutes, just leave."

"We're going in with you," Anthony said.

"We have weapons," Gabi said cheerfully.

Danae sighed, turning to James for support. "We are coming," he said.

"If you guys die, I'm blaming it on Mr. Responsible Watcher," Danae said. "Okay, we're running for the building. Don't fall back. The dead'll appear as soon as we get out there, but don't kill anything unless you have to. We don't have time, and the Book still has more it can raise. Once inside, secure the door and don't let anything else in. I do have to fight the Book on my own."

"Agreed, now can we cut the talk and just fight? I'm getting bored," Felipe said, stretching as though yawning.

"Fine. Let's go."

Danae turned and ran out onto the grass at top speed, not looking to see if anyone followed. As she'd predicted, the dead appeared and came toward them. They had too much of a head start for them to catch up, though, and Danae threw open the door to the mausoleum. "Get in!" she yelled, and the four shot inside. She jumped in and shut the door, leaning against it.

The inside was dark, but no darker than the outside, and they could all see well enough. Several caskets adorned the room, and there were shelves on the walls, but no bodies. With a chill, Danae was reminded of Francis.

"Tally ho," Danae said, pointing to the door leading to another chamber. They began to move forward when the door swung open on its own.

Several dark shapes passed through the doorway, tall and lanky. They held swords at their sides, moving as though their feet didn't touch the ground. They were swathed in burial shrouds, hiding their sharp faces.

Hell's Sentinels.

James took a step backwards, and Danae's heart fluttered. Gabi gave her a panicked look. "We killed these," Gabi cried, holding the axe in her hands tighter.

"We did," Anthony said grimly, knuckles white on his sword. The blade wavered, and Danae brushed past all of them to take point. "We can do it again."

"Let's do this quick. No flashiness; go straight for their solar plexus," Danae ordered them, daggers sliding into her hands.

The Sentinels moved forward as one, a solid rank, then split in the middle. Instead or coming forward to attack, as Danae thought they would, they instead moved aside, standing by the walls. They looked like they were waiting for something.

And what they were waiting for quickly became apparent. Through the still-open door came what Danae assumed was the Book -- but it certainly looked nothing like the tome that she had taken from Ethan Rayne many months ago.

A tall woman came through the door, with skin a powdery gold color. Her skin color was odd enough in and of itself, but crawling all along her body were hieroglyphs, ever-shifting. Danae could tell very easily the symbols covered her entirely; she wore no clothes, but her long hands were folded in front of her. She had no hair, but large eyes and a mouth that was parted slightly to show long fangs that scraped her bottom lip.

"Well," James said.

"Wow," Anthony murmured.

"Mouths closed, boys, evil book there," Danae said, unimpressed.

"Slayer," the Book said, licking her lips. Her voice was like crumpling paper, scratchy, and with an accent Danae didn't recognize. Of course, Danae had never met any Egyptians before, and she assumed that it was an accent from that region. "You are far too hard to kill."

"Sorry," Danae apologized, fingering the box in her pocket. If she were to just pull it out right then, it could be over -- but she didn't know the range. For all she knew, it could end five feet away.

Running forward, the Slayer pulled the box out, trying to open it. The Book didn't move at first, and Danae began to think that this would be disappointingly simple, but once she was in arm's range --

WHAM.

The Book struck Danae with the heel of her hand, throwing her back. The box skittered away, but the Slayer managed to stay on her feet. Anthony began to move forward, but James held him back. "No. Watch," he said, pointing.

Danae straightened, looking annoyed. "I do NOT appreciate that," she said. Without another word, she kicked the Book twice in its bald head, then leaped and struck down at it, landing behind her. She kicked the Book's knees out from behind it, but it twisted as it fell and grabbed Danae.

The Book head butted her, reaching around to keep her wrists behind her. The odd-colored woman knelt on Danae's stomach, pressing her knee just below the breast bone. Danae struggled, and finally threw her off.

The Slayer began looking around quickly for the box, but the Book wouldn't have any of it. She grabbed Danae around her middle and threw her against the wall. The Sentinels moved back, almost politely, and it was all Gabi could do not to giggle. Danae frowned at the Sentinels in irritation, then launched herself back at the Book -- and towards the light box.

Danae slammed her fist into the Book's nose, aware that it probably wouldn't kill or harm her at all. The Book stumbled back, and Danae rolled across the ground, grabbing the box.

At a disadvantage, the Book turned quickly to the Sentinels, gesturing towards the Slayer (who was trying to open the box again). James saw before Danae, and panicked

"She can't kill them. I can't kill them," James muttered, and Felipe touched his arm.

"Let me," the mage said, his eyes sincere.

James paused for a long moment, watching Danae struggle with the box, then look up and see the Sentinels. The Watcher had no magic left, and if Felipe lost control "Fine." He pinched his first finger and thumb together, making a pulling motion.

Felipe's eyes glowed, and he paused for a minute, drinking in the power he had missed for so long. Remembering quickly that he wasn't getting high this time, he concentrated on not getting hyped. James began to worry as the boy didn't move, just stood still with his hands together.

He shouldn't have bothered being concerned. As soon as the Sentinels moved in on Danae, Felipe began to gather the magics. James could feel the potency of this new, pure magic, and the held his hands out in front of him, palms up.

His lips began moving silently, and the Hell's Sentinels paused, turning to face this new threat. Danae looked up from the Book, who she'd been watching warily, and saw what was happening. The Book was as distracted as she was, and Danae took the opportunity to reach up, grabbing the Book and punching.

It fell back one last time, and the Slayer finally forced the latch on the box open, pointing it at the Book -- and a massive fireball erupted from its insides, leaping forth and wrapping around the Book of the Dead.

It began to scream; a high, screeching noise. It stared at its own hands as fire leapt up its fingers and arms, and then in a quick moment, was completely swamped.

The fire disappeared, and Danae saw a lump on the floor -- the Book of the Dead, a book again.

Her attention was drawn back to the Hell's Sentinels. She thought for a moment she was going to have to fight them, too, but then she saw Felipe. He was floating slightly above the ground, somehow, and his hands were in front of him. The Sentinels had their backs to her, and Felipe clenched his hands into fists.

All seven dissolved.

"Wow," she heard Gabi say. "Wish you'd been here when they first rose."

Danae smiled, turning to the door. "Let's get Sara." She opened it, going through to a small, dimly-lit room.

Chains rattled, and Sara waved. "Hi."

---

James shut the door by backing into it, going up the stairs behind Felipe. He watched as the young boy set the Book on his desk, then lay Danae carefully on the couch. She didn't even stir, just continued to sleep.

"I'm sure the authorities are going to have a great time re-burying all those bodies," Felipe said cheerfully, opening the refrigerator and examining its contents.

The Watcher didn't reply, sitting at the table thoughtfully. He eyed the Book, deep in thought. "I can't keep that here," he said resolutely after a moment. Felipe pulled out a chair, flopping onto it and opening the bottle of Sobe.

"What are you going to do with it?"

James shrugged. "I don't know. I could return it to necklace form and" He paused. "No. I'll have to take it somewhere remote and do a permanent binding spell. Danae can stay with Gabi until I return."

Felipe turned the bottle in his hands, watching the pale greenish liquid swirl inside. "I understand you're going to bind me again," he said quietly.

"No," James said, sitting back. Felipe looked at him oddly. "Binding you is just a way of delaying the inevitable. There's a coven in Devonshire I have good friends in; they'll help you recuperate and teach you to better deal with your magic. Of course, that's if you're willing to learn."

He thought about it for a moment. "I am."

James nodded. "I'll make the call tomorrow."

Danae rolled over on the couch, beginning to snore slightly. "It's pretty amazing," Felipe said, voicing his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You know, her," he said, gesturing at her with the bottle. "She looks so small, so helpless, and she just saved the world."

James laughed. "It is pretty amazing, isn't it?" he asked, watching her sleep for a moment. "And it's only just begun"

---

To be continued next season...


	7. Back in the Saddle Again

Back In The Saddle Again

by Head Staff Writer RainTiger

Notes: And I begin to post parts of season two. Back on my site, it's up to episode fifteen, but I thought I'd put in a special effort and put the ones written by me thus far up here. Hope you enjoy! (As usual, it's Joss'. All of it.)

---

Danae stuck the end of a long piece of grass in her mouth, chewing on it idly. Her eyes wandered over the stars, silently naming the constellations she saw, and trying to guess what planets the funny-colored dots were. "Definitely Venus," she mumbled around the stalk.

Shifting her back so it wasn't on a rock anymore, Danae looked over to the side, trying to see if there were any vampires. "Slow night," she sighed. "Slow enough that I'm talking to myself."

Sitting up, she picked her jacket up off of where she had been laying on it. Danae wiped the grass off of it slowly, in no particular hurry. She climbed to her feet, slapping her backside to get all dirt and grass off her jeans. Reaching into the pocket of her trench coat ("borrowed" from James), she pulled out her cell phone, dialing quickly and raising it to her ear.

"Operator," Gabi said from the other end of the line.

"No vampires tonight," Danae complained. "You'd think they'd be all over the place. It's a gorgeous night."

"Just come on home," her friend bade. "I somehow doubt the entire town'll blow up if you take the rest of the night off."

"Okay, I'll be there soon," the Slayer said, turning off her phone and slipping it back into the jacket.

She folded the trench coat over her arm, walking slowly through the park, back towards the road. The Boxster was parked nearby, looking like it just _wanted_ to be driven about really fast. Danae sighed, throwing her jacket into the passenger seat and slipping into the driver's. She slammed the door, looking around for her keys.

Danae only had her learner's permit, but James had left her the Porsche and its keys, and how could she resist driving herself everywhere? It was just too sweet an opportunity to pass. In any case, there wouldn't be any police about to stop her.

Finding the key ring with a triumphant cry, she turned on the car and pressed her foot to the gas pedal, glancing at her blind spot as an afterthought as she pulled out. There would be no one on the road at this time of night, especially around Bryony. The entire town went to sleep at 9:00, and as of late, it seemed even the demons and vampires were snoozing.

Danae accelerated a little more to get a proper wind blowing around her, her auburn hair flying about her face. She relaxed into the driving, glancing up at the moon. She completely ignored the new residential areas that were being built, as well as the new post office and the small casino well on its way to being a bother. Bryony and Clairvaux both were booming, and if they kept growing the way they were, they'd merge in no time.

She rounded a road on the side of the mountain, Tahoe stretched below her, sparkling with small waves. Danae had been patrolling both Bryony and Clairvaux as of late, and she was still lucky to get the occasional vamp. It was almost like things had returned to the way they had been a year ago, before the Hellmouth had reawakened.

It was boring.

Once she reached Bryony again, Danae slowed a bit. She didn't want to turn a corner and crash into the occasional pedestrian enjoying the smooth air darkness brought, and in any case, Gabi's house was nearby.

Opening the glove compartment, but keeping one hand on the wheel, she took out the garage opener. Gabi's parents were off on some cruise, and so they'd been alone at her house for the past two weeks, and still had one more week free. Pressing the button, Danae pulled into the garage.

---

A light fog lay on the ground, blowing about in little gray swirls with the soft stirrings of wind. The stars were exceptionally bright that night, the moon hanging heavily over the mountains and casting a light blue glow over the barren land. Danae rubbed her eyes, squinting at the distant horizon.

She took a slow step forward, feet scuffing in the dirt and kicking up the mist. "Hello?" The breeze increased, wrapping around her bare skin, and Danae folded her arms to stay warmer. "Hello?" she repeated.

There was a rustling noise behind her, and she turned quickly, eyes open wide. There was nothing but the empty expanse. "Who who's there?"

"You can't control it," a feminine voice whispered, calm but firm. Danae's head whipped around, searching for the source. "No one can."

"What can't I control?" Standing in the open as she was, and completely naked, Danae felt more vulnerable than she ever had before. "What what can't--"

"It's coming, and you won't be able to fight it alone."

Danae didn't turn around that time, but looked up at the sky. The moon was slowly darkening as she watched, and the stars blacked out with a suddenness that took Danae aback. The wind died completely, leaving her frightened and alone as the entire sky turned to black.

"It's coming."

Danae didn't open her eyes, pulling her pillow over her head. The voice was suddenly loud and horrible, making her head ring. Or was that her phone ringing?

Sitting up instantly, Danae fumbled around her bedside table, searching for her cell phone. She bumped something off the table, and realizing that it was her phone, groaned. Danae reached down at the floor, over balancing and tumbling onto the floor, smacking the ground solidly. She held her head, moaning, and began searching for it again. "Blasted device," she muttered, finally locating it under the bed.

She pressed "yes" and held it up to her ear. "Hello?"

They had hung up.

Mumbling to herself angrily, Danae slapped the phone on her bed, then grabbing a fistful of sheets and pulling herself back up. She shoved clutter from in front of the clock, the red glow saying that it was only 3:14 in the morning. Danae stared at it disbelievingly.

"Who would have the nerve..?" she wondered to herself, hanging half-off the bed. Danae looked at the name of the caller. "Bloody hell!" Danae cursed, dropping the phone again. She had just missed James.

Standing, she shoved her feet into fluffy pink slippers and slipped on her robe. Poking her head out the door, Danae peered down the hall at Gabi's room. The light was on, a sliver of cheery gold light under her closed door. The girl shuffled over to Gabi's room, knocking lightly on it. "Gabi? Are you up?"

"Mm-hm," Gabi's ever-cheerful voice said. "Come on in."

Danae opened the door, looking in. Gabi was curled up in her PJs on her bed, book in her lap. She smiled as Danae came in, sliding the first flap of the book jacket into the book to mark her place. "What are you reading?" Danae asked curiously.

"Harry Potter. It's all the rage."

Danae snorted. "Spongebob Squarepants is all the rage, but it's still stupid."

"Are you anti-culture or are you just having a bad night?" Gabi asked, patting the bed next to her. Danae came over, sitting on the pillow and leaning against the headboard. She bit her lower lip, stroking Perseus as he hopped into her lap. He spent more time in Gabi's room, as he seemed to prefer the girl who gave him many kitty treats over the one who just pet him a lot.

"James called again, and yet again I missed him," Danae sighed. "I feel really guilty, but he always manages to call when I'm asleep, or on the job."

"It's a talent of his," Gabi said, sitting up more to be level with her friend. "Maybe you should call him."

"I try, but it's usually from a pay phone or I don't really feel like racking up your phone bill with long distance calls." Danae balanced one of her slippers on one toe, curling a lock of hair around her finger. It was a nervous habit she had picked up over the summer, and she did it now without even realizing it.

Gabi grabbed the cordless phone, shoving it at Danae. "Stop procrastinating. Call. Now."

Sighing, Danae bit her lower lip, trying to remember the phone number. As she was about to dial, it began to ring.

Answering it automatically, she raised it to her ear. "Hello?"

"May I please speak to Danae?"

"This is she," Danae said. "Who is this?"

"You know who I am," he said dryly. Danae frowned, then realized that it was James.

"Oh, ha, I feel really stupid. You know, I was about to call you," Danae said, relieved that she finally had caught him. "I haven't spoken to you in, what, three months?"

"Two and a half," James corrected.

Gabi leaned in close to Danae, trying to hear what James was saying. Rather than pushing her friend away (Danae had personal space issues), she let her listen in. "What's up?"

He paused. "I'm coming home tomorrow. Could I get a pickup at the airport at two o'clock?"

"Of course!" Danae said. "Anthony'll steal the van, and we can all drive over to get you."

"Is he aware he's volunteering?"

"Nah, but he won't mind." Gabi snickered, grabbing Danae's shoulder and leaning her ear closer. "I've missed you," Danae said honestly, smiling at Gabi and pushing her away playfully.

"I've missed you too," James said. "What have you been up to this summer?"

"Nothing -- erk, off, Gabi -- nothing much," Danae said, batting away her friend with one hand. "I'll catch you up tomorrow, when I see you."

Gabi rolled off of Danae, laughing. "And I will catch you up then, as well. Has the activity been bad?" James asked, and Danae immediately groaned.

"No. Not at all. Since the Book has been gone, things have gone pretty much back to what they were before the Hellmouth woke up." Danae stuck her tongue out at Gabi. "No demons whatsoever, and maybe three vampires. In three -- I mean, two and a half months. I'm bored, James."

"That's a good thing. Listen, I'll see you, and I have to get going right now." He rattled off his flight information, and Danae scribbled it on Gabi's bedside table with eyeliner. Gabi made an indignant noise, but Danae ignored her. "I'll see you soon."

"Later, James," Danae said, hanging up.

"Why did you have to write ON the table?!" Gabi cried, throwing herself at the table and looking at it, panicked.

Danae shrugged. "I would have forgotten if I hadn't written it down. Do you have paper?"

"You couldn't have asked this three minutes ago," Gabi said bitterly. "And, yes, in my desk." Much quieter, she said, "My poor, violated table."

"Now I'm a table molester?" Danae asked, laughing. She walked over to the desk, sliding open the first drawer she saw and began pawing through it for paper.

"Top drawer," Gabi said, correcting Danae's searches. The girl soon located a paper and pen, then went back to the table to write down the info. "And nice job on volunteering Anthony. You know he doesn't really like James that much."

"He doesn't? I thought they got along fine, you know, with the dance classes and all," Danae said, folding up the paper and slipping it in her pocket. Gabi sighed.

"For a superhero, you're really oblivious," Gabi said, picking up her book again. She opened it to the page she'd been at, but watched Danae instead of reading. "The studio has been officially closed for three months, and even before that James was too busy to teach classes for a while. Anthony's had to go to town to dance."

"Guess that explains why he's been missing so much lately," Danae muttered. "But I never picked up on him not liking James."

"He only endures him for you, Danae," she explained, picking up her reading glasses off the written-on table and balancing them on her nose. She peered down at the pages, speaking as though without realizing what she said. "I bet he loves you."

Danae raised one eyebrow. "Really?"

"Probably." Gabi yawned, shutting the book and sliding it off the side of her bed. "I'm pretty beat. Go back to your room and sleep, girl. Tomorrow, it's back to the dance studio for you."

"You're right. I'm just restless from the lack of enemies lately," Danae sighed, crossing to Gabi's door. "Good night."

"Good night."

---

"Reno Airport sucks," Danae muttered, slumping in the chair.

"It's called 'Reno Tahoe International,'" Sara corrected, patting Danae on the shoulder.

Gabi whispered something to Anthony, and he gave her a dirty look. Danae leaned her head on one arm, watching people pass by. "How late can a flight be?" she asked, and Sara shrugged.

"Late."

The loudspeaker announced that the flight had arrived ("Took them long enough!" Gabi whined), but Danae shot to her feet, looking at the gate, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Patience," Anthony said, putting his arm around her waist.

"Patience is for humans," Danae scoffed.

"You're human," Anthony said. "Just strong human."

She smiled up at him, and he bent down, kissing her. Gabi began coughing from behind them, but they ignored her, until she finally said, "There he is!"

Danae pulled back from Anthony immediately, looking over around at the gate. Gabi pointed, and they saw James forcing his way through the crowd. Danae shoved a few people aside, running up to him and throwing her arms around him. She grabbed a little too tight, perhaps, but for once he didn't try to pry her off. James dropped his carryon, picking her up and hugging her warmly.

"I missed you a little," she said, muffled against his chest.

"I get that," he said, laughing in her hair. Even lifted, she was short.

Danae smiled into his jumper, knowing that even though he couldn't see, he'd know she was happy to see him. "You have souvenirs, of course," she said, dropping back to the ground.

"Naturally," James agreed. "I tried getting you a new flame thrower, but just like last time, I couldn't get it through customs."

"Stupid customs," Danae said, mock-seriously. Grabbing his bag and slinging it on her back, she looped her arm through his. "So, good summer?"

"Good enough."

Danae peered up at him sideways, noting the odd tone in his voice. She decided to pursue the matter later, in less of a crowded place. "Anthony drove us here in the van. Hope you don't mind."

"Wasn't too keen on walking, so I guess it'll do," he said.

"You two done being sickening?" Anthony asked when Danae and James arrived back at the group.

"For the moment, yes," Danae said. "More vomit-inducing sweetness later, I promise."

Gabi grinned. "Let's get your stuff, James," she said.

As they headed for the baggage pick up, Sara looked over their shoulders at the window leading outside. "Hey, it's snowing!" she said.

"That's odd," Danae said. "Does it usually start snowing so early around here?"

"No," Gabi said, sounding completely unworried. "Don't worry, the snow won't stick."

---

"It's already nearly a foot," Danae reported. "Pretty impressive, considering it's August." She dropped the filmy curtains, allowing them to cover the view to the near-whiteout outside. She marched over to James' bed, flopping on it and watching the new water mattress sway.

"Very impressive," James remarked, sliding a drawer shut. He tossed his second suitcase aside, joining Danae on the bed and pulling the final case with him. She giggled as the mattress bounced her, sitting up and peering over his shoulder as he opened the case.

"What's in there?"

"Papers and books I picked up as I traveled," he said, "not to mention a present for you."

Danae clapped her hands, climbing to his side unsteadily. "Ooh, give!"

The Watcher placed a couple books to the side (she caught titles like "Hebron's Almanac" and "The Black Chronicles"), and reached for the bottom of the case. He pulled his hand back, his hand clenched in a fist like something was dangling from his hand -- but James' hand was empty. "Thanks," Danae said brightly. "I've always wanted air from England!"

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "It's an invisibility spell."

"I sort of assumed that Winona Ryder just got to your briefcase," Danae joked, poking at the space underneath his fist. Her finger met something, and she ran her finger along the odd outline. It felt like leather.

James dropped whatever it was into his other hand, making motions as though pulling open a bag and reaching in -- and as he reached, his hand disappeared into the invisible thing. Danae gasped, leaning closer to try and see where his hand was going. He pulled it back out, and a beautifully shiny weapon with many blades was revealed.

Danae gaped, reaching out to take it. It was balanced wonderfully, glimmered in the light, and Danae fell immediately in love.

"Hunga munga," James said.

"Bless you," Danae replied absently, smiling at the weapon as though it were her new baby.

"No," her Watcher said, lowering the weapon from her gaze. "That's what it's called. Hunga munga."

"Oh," she said, still gazing at her new toy. "Where did how?"

"Along with the invisibility spell, I cast some charms on it so I could sneak it through the airport," James said. "When the witch in the Coven gave it to me, I knew you'd love it."

Danae set it down, smiling up at him. "Thank you, James. Now I remember why I bother keeping you around."

"So what did you do this summer?" he asked, taking the hunga munga back from her to keep her from breaking something in his bedroom. James set it aside, turning to go through the papers, books, and occasional photos.

"Rode the mellow," Danae said with a shrug. "Not by personal choice, of course. You think I'd have arch enemies springing up all over the place like dandelions."

"So you sat about, hardly breathing, eyes closed, or perhaps in a state of complete nothingness, for two and a half months?"

"Well, there was this thing with the magic mushrooms and the vacuum cleaner," Danae began, laughing already so hard she had a difficult time saying the words. All mirth died completely at James' Look, and she shut up, looking at her hands. "Where we er made mushroom spaghetti, and, uh, Anthony spilled it, and Gabi tried to suck it up with a vacuum cleaner." James clearly didn't buy it. "Oh-kay," Danae said, voice an oddly high pitch. "How was your summer?"

"Disregarding your illicit use of hallucinogenic fungi, and incredibly bad cover story, my summer was interesting," James said. He took a rubber band off of a bunch of older photos, flipping through them idly as he spoke. "To make a horrendously long story short, Felipe and I went immediately to the North Pole and bound the Book of the Dead there. The only way that bugger is getting back into circulation is if in ten thousand years, I myself decide I want to take over the world."

"Always a possibility," Danae said wisely, leaning back against the headboard.

James nodded. "After that, I took the boy to the Coven in Devonshire. They took him in quite readily. As a thank-you, they gave me the Tome of Tethys, which isn't actually a book, but a pendant of a Titanides goddess who had 3000 nymph daughters, 3000 river sons, as well as Metis, Tyche, and Styx."

"Fertile," Danae commented. "She's not one of those goddesses with all the boobs, is she?"

He shook his head, hiding a smile behind his hand. "No. I visited the Watcher's Council after I was sure Felipe was settled in, saw some relatives, had a good time for the most part."

"Lots of relatives in the Council?" Danae asked curiously.

"My aunt, my father, and my step father is Quentin Travers," James said with a shrug. "I don't really count him, though. Even after marrying my mother, they divorced, so there's no relation there."

"Don't forget your brother," she said without thinking. She instantly wished she hadn't.

James stiffened, stopping on one picture. "Yes," he said. "My brother."

Alex, James' twin brother, was a very sore topic. Apparently, they had gotten in a large fight at some point, and then Alex had been told to retrieve and train Danae and instead of facing his destiny, ran for it. Danae still didn't know what the big argument was about, and she knew she shouldn't ask. He sounded more upset now, though. "What happened?" Danae asked quietly.

"I saw him," he said. "After four years, he just appeared. I was at my aunt's house, and came to her, seeking guidance. He came to _her_. We didn't want to see each other, but my aunt forced us in a room together, locked it, and spelled it shut." James touched his cheek below his left eye. "Alex throws a mean right hook."

"I'm sure you held your own," Danae said supportively, patting his arm.

"No, actually, I would have felt guilty using magic against him, and he's a much better hand-to-hand fighter than me. He beat me quite thoroughly, and we did speak for a moment, and then I finally used my magic and broke out." James looked incredibly irritated. "I hope I don't see him again for another four years."

Wanting to change the subject, Danae looked at the picture James held. It was a photo of what she assumed was towards the very end of his academy days; he stood with his arm around a woman his age, a very attractive man standing at his other side. "Hey, who's that lunchable guy?"

James looked like he was fighting back the urge to say something, and then tightly said, "Alex."

"Oh-kay," Danae said, standing. "I'm going to go finish unpacking my own things. Bye, James."

"Goodbye," he said, his head hanging down.

---

"This sucks," Danae reported into her cell phone.

"Agreeing completely," Gabi moped from the other end.

Danae examined the nail polish on her toe nails while she spoke. "I'm so bored I've been forced to resort to things 'normal' teenagers do," she complained. "I'm laying half-off my bed and painting my nails while talking on the phone. That does it -- the power has to come back on now."

"It wouldn't be so bad if we weren't snowed in," Gabi sighed. "At least it stopped earlier."

"You at least have a pool so you can swim. I wanted to go down to the beach today!"

"My situation's worse than yours," Gabi said, "because my parents are home."

"I can't patrol."

"I can't go on a date."

"You have a date and you didn't tell me?!"

"No."

Danae sighed. "You need a boyfriend, girl," she said.

"Are we done playing 'I'm in more misery'?" Gabi asked, laughing.

"I guess. I'm going to go see what mischief James is getting into on the roof." Danae hung up, dropping her phone onto her bed. She headed straight for the stairs leading to the roof, calling up before climbing, "Still there?"

"Yes," he said, voice strained.

She went up the stairs. James had a shovel loaded with snow, and a large area of the roof was clear (if damp). "Need help?" she asked, folding her arms.

"That's all right," he said, flinging the snow off the roof.

Danae sighed, walking up behind him. As soon as he turned, she took the shovel from him. "Let me."

"You have to leave me some dignity sometimes, you know," he said.

She began throwing snow off the roof at an accelerated pace, getting the shovel full and then tossing much faster than James did. She didn't even have to think about it, watching the beautiful view of the white-covered trees and spoke while working. "What do you think of this snow, anyway?"

"I don't know," he admitted, "but it felt odd."

"Odd?" Danae paused, looking at him over her shoulder.

"Odd," he confirmed. "Like it wasn't natural, almost."

"Just what I need," Danae said, but she couldn't make herself be angry. She wanted some action after so long without! "No demons for months, and now suddenly snow demon."

"Don't pretend that it doesn't make you happy."

She just smiled and kept working.

---

Although the air was cold, and there was snow on the ground, the sun was just the opposite -- it streamed down, warming the concrete ground of the roof. Danae peered over her sunglasses at James, who was working diligently on something, leaned against the barrier around them. He had Hebron's Almanac on his lap, a notebook covering one of the pages, as he scribbled quickly on the lined pages.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked again. "You know being dressed as you are."

Danae sighed, adjusting on the towel she had spread on the ground. "Just because I can't go to the beach doesn't mean I should suffer and have no tan."

"But is a bikini really the best thing to wear when there's snow all over the place?"

"I don't see why not," she said.

He shook his head, writing in the notebook. "I wouldn't be running around in my swim wear at this temperature," James muttered, low enough so most people wouldn't be able to hear. "Completely daft."

"Daft?" Danae asked, pretending to be offended. She gestured at her small bikini, eyebrows raised. "Me, daft?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

She was preparing one of her scathing replies when the wind began to rise, blowing about in freezing gusts. Danae sat up quickly, panicking. "Cold!"

"That's what you get for --"

It grew even colder and stronger, like needles slapping at her skin with every blast, and James seemed to realize something. "Get inside!" he hollered, fighting to his feet and trying to keep all his papers (and failing miserably). "Inside!"

A man rose on the wind up the side of the building, his arms out to his sides. He was shaved bald, but a thick brown mustache covered his upper lip, and he wore black robes that billowed out quite theatrically around him. Danae determined very quickly that he was the cause of it, and tried to get her towel and her down the stairs.

She watched helplessly as it was whipped out of her hands, and covered her head as the wind became too powerful for her to fight. James was making his way towards her, trying to get near enough to grab her -- and the wind finally reached the point where she was flung off of the roof, the torrent battering her bare skin.

Danae had never felt so out of control. She flew towards the side of the roof, tumbling feet over head, and was about to be gone --

The wind started countering itself. Every beat was blocked, every time she was pushed harder the other force kept up. When she was flown and able to see, she saw James with his hand flung out, face creased in concentration. She was going closer to him, until he could finally grab her ankle and yank her back down to the roof. He wrapped his arms around her to hold her down, watching helplessly as the man came closer.

"I'll come back for you, Edwards," he said loudly over the wind and then -- was gone.

The air immediately calmed down, her beach blanket fluttering to the ground beyond the roof. Danae pulled away from James, patting her hair, and looking at him, bewildered. "What the hell was that?"

---

James set down the phone, rubbing his temples. Danae sipped her hot apple cider, shivering quietly. She was bundled up in sheets and a thick sweater, although she hadn't bothered putting on the sweat pants James had set out for her. "Still cold," she complained, pulling the blankets more tightly around her one-handed. "You know, they s-say the best w-w-way to get w-warm is to crawl naked in a s-sleeping bag with someone else w-who's naked."

Unfortunately, he wasn't in a joking mood. James sighed heavily, sitting next to her and re-wrapping her in the slightly messy blankets. "I'm sorry," James said quietly.

"What's wrong?" Danae asked gently, tightening her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

"He must have cast a cold charm on you," James said, examining her bookshelf for a book on counter charms. He came up with a book shortly, going directly to the index in the back. "That can be the only explanation why you're not getting warm."

"Two q-questions," she said, snuggling deeper in her turtleneck. She drank a little of her cider. "One -- who were y-you talking to? Two -- who was that guy?"

"The second is a better question," James said, flipping to a page inked in blue. "That was Gerald Mack, of the Society of the WindWalkers."

"B-boring name for that guy," she commented. "Y-you know, M-mack. Very d-d-dull."

Knowing what the next question out of her mouth would be, James said automatically, "The Society of the WindWalkers is a coven, of sorts, located somewhere in India, although they move quite a lot. A few years ago, about six to be exact, they spent quite some time in England. They're always searching for people with magic and the ability to control two of the four elements -- air and water, to be exact."

"L-let me guess and say they control the w-weather," Danae said, "and they w-wanted you to join."

"Something to that effect," James admitted. "To be more precise, I'd have to say that I wanted to join, but there were some very big reasons why I couldn't. One, I was already at the Watcher's Academy, and another I'm not very good at weather magic."

"Ouch," Danae said. "S-so they wouldn't let you i-in?"

He nodded.

"But you d-did g-good with the wind and s-saved me," Danae continued. "Why?"

James ducked his head. "It was important," he muttered. "I couldn't just let you get blown off the roof and land in the lake and drown or the like. Ah!" the Watcher exclaimed. "Found it!"

He got up and disappeared, and she could hear him whipping up another one of his potions in the kitchen. Five minutes later, he was back, a small bowl in hand. He was chanting to himself, and then sat in front of Danae. James dipped one finger in the potion, dotting her neck twice, wrists, and then very quickly on her chest, continuing to mutter to himself.

Warmth spread through Danae, flooding her system with tingling heat. She immediately threw off the blankets, gasping from the sudden heat. "When you make an anti-charm, you really make an anti-charm," she panted, standing to get away from the hot bed.

James just smiled. "Now will you put trousers on?"

"Shorts, yes, trousers, no," Danae said, going to the dresser to get shorts and a tank top, shedding the knit turtleneck. "You never finished answering my questions, by the way." She turned away from him, stripping off her bikini top and slipping on the white tank.

James politely looked out the window while she changed. "The Society did teach me a bit, since there were few at the Academy that were better at magic than me. They referred me to the Coven in Devonshire after that. I couldn't really learn their sort of magic very well, so they had little to teach me."

"Where does our friend Gerald come in?" she asked, buttoning the four buttons on the front of her shorts. Danae grabbed a clip off the top of her dresser, twisting her hair up quickly, loose locks falling around her face.

"He was a student of the Society at that time, and he didn't like them teaching me," James said simply. Danae touched his shoulder, and he turned around, hands in his pockets. "We had a row, and he brought it up to the head of the Society, a kindly older lady. She disregarded his complaint, and he grew bitter. Mack thought they preferred an outsider over one of their own students, and he lashed out at one of his teachers. In the end, they discharged him and banned him from doing magic."

"It worked so well, too," Danae said wryly, linking her hands behind her back and stretching.

"And that was the Society I spoke to on the phone a few minutes ago," he finished. "They're coming for him. There's no way either of us could combat his magic."

"Don't need magic to beat him," she said, punching the air a couple of times and kicking high above her head. "Let me close enough, and there'll be no recovery for Gerry."

---

"Um Danae why are you walking around in shorts and a tank top?" Gabi asked, blowing into her mittens. Danae bounced happily down the street behind the snow plow, wearing flip flops instead of big snow boots like Gabi, Sara, and Anthony were.

"Aren't you cold?" Anthony asked, eyeing her tank top.

"Nope," Danae said cheerfully. "James put a warmth charm on me. It'll wear off and I'll be back to normal temperatures in a couple hours, but until then, I'm completely oblivious."

"You can say that again," Sara muttered.

Anthony looked like he didn't quite believe her. "At least take my coat. You don't look comfortable."

"I'm fine, I promise," she insisted. She glanced at a huge pile of snow pushed aside by the plow, at least twice her height, maybe even three times. She walked over casually, scooping a handful of snow up and patting it into a smooth, icy ball. "If you guys are fine is something else entirely."

Danae whipped around, aiming and throwing in one moment, smacking Anthony square in the face. He fell back, startled, but quickly caught on and retaliated. Grabbing a fistful, he flung it at Danae, who ducked, and Sara got hit in the chest instead.

"You will pay for that," Sara said calmly, moving surprisingly fast for someone normally so mellow. She grabbed a large amount of snow, then caught a fleeing Gabi by the collar and stuffed it down her back. The blonde shrieked, jumping back and slapping at her back.

"Cold! Cold!"

"Hey, that's not me!" Anthony said.

"True," Danae admitted, mimicking Sara, but instead pulled Anthony's jeans forward by the waistband and forced down a particularly damp clump.

He gave a very effeminate cry, getting Danae in the chest with two snowballs he picked up as he ran. "Quick, Gabi! Snow!" he called, dancing on his feet at the freezing sensation he was experiencing in his nether regions.

She flung snow at him, missing his hands and splattering on his arm. Anthony laughed, grabbing Gabi by the sleeve and pushing her at Sara. Both girls were thrown off-balance, and fell with a squeal into the pile of snow. Danae was scrambling up the slope, reaching to top quickly, but flip flopped feet didn't have very good traction on the unsteady ground.

Danae balled her hands into fists, holding them above her head. "And I am queen of the mountain!" she crowed.

"Oh, not for long," Anthony said playfully, helping Gabi and Sara to their feet. "Us three, versus you, Danae. Aim all snowballs at the enemy!"

"Cheating!" Danae called down. "That's not fair!" Grinning wickedly, she gathered, a massive ball and threw it down with great precision, hitting Sara in the stomach and throwing her backwards.

"You call _us _cheaters?!" Gabi yelled, laughing, until she too was taken out with an ice ball.

Danae dodged Anthony's strike easily. Gabi climbed to her feet, holding a stitch in her side, but there wasn't the hint of a smile on her face at all. "Danae, behind you!" she screamed, pointing.

The Slayer turned just in time to see Gerald Mack flying up, and then his fist struck her face. Danae fell down the snow hill, tumbling with her feet over her head. Her flip flops flew off, and she hit the ground hard flat on her back. Moaning, she looked up and saw Mack land on the top of the snow hill. He gestured, and the wind picked Danae up, smashing her against the top floor of a florist shop, shattering the window.

The glass cut at her back, but it wasn't for long as she fell again, landing badly on the sidewalk outside.

"Don't you give up?" Danae coughed, spitting a little blood onto the concrete. She stumbled to her feet, wincing as glass shards in her back still scraped at her.

Anthony ran to her side, but Mack gestured again and blew him away. "I was hoping to find Edwards," he said loudly enough for Danae to hear, "but you'll do."

He rose his hand to gesture once more, but a snowball hit him and threw him back a little. Danae looked at the source of the snow, only to see a very angry Gabi gathering ice in her mittens to throw again. The Slayer took the distraction, leaping to the top as quickly as she could and tackling the man.

They both rolled off the hill, and he angrily raised his hands to summon something, but Danae didn't want to give him a chance. She thrust his hands into a snow pile, sitting hard on his chest to keep him from moving, then punched him a couple times for good measure.

"Ow," she told him bitterly, standing and making sure to step on his stomach. Danae winced, twisting her back the littlest bit.

Mack looked like he was about to move, but she glared at him. "Don't even THINK it," she growled.

Gabi appeared next to her, looking at the man. "Who's he?"

"Enemy. Defeated," Danae said. "Someone have a cell phone? I want James here for a pickup."

---

"Ouch," the Slayer said, pressing the blanket she was using to cover her bare front into her face.

"Sorry," James apologized, trying to pull out a glass shard gently, dabbing at the blood on Danae's back with a towel.

"Very nice of them to come and get him," Gabi said, watching Danae and James and eating popcorn.

"The snow's already melting," Sara said. "Beach tomorrow, or the day after?"

"Sure," Anthony agreed. "But I don't know if Danae'll be up to it yet."

"Minor cuts," Danae said. "Ow. I'll be healed by the day after tomorrow," she assured everyone. James pulled out the last shard, then pressed the towel against the wound to keep her blood from getting on the parquet floor.

"Bandages," James said, and Gabi tossed them to him.

"All boys, turn away," Danae said. Anthony didn't comply, so Sara grabbed a pillow and covered his face. Danae dropped the blanket covering her front side, and James quickly and efficiently put on the bandages. Gabi handed Danae a baggy shirt, and she put it on with a little grimacing. "Ow," she repeated

Danae climbed into a chair, leaning against a table. "Happy to be back to defeating evil?" James asked, standing and tugging down on his shirt to keep it straight.

She smiled serenely, eyes glazing over. "Don't you know it."

---

fin


End file.
